i^, 


m^^l 


^i  Wxt  lbfo%%  ^ 


rm,i 


PEINCETON,    N.    J. 


% 


BX  9178  .W12x 
Wadsworth,  Charles,  1814- 
1882. 
sAe//..    Sermons 


Ja^.   %r3  -  ^xlrC> 


S  E  R  M  O  ]^  S 


BY 


REV.  CHARLES VaDSWORTH,  D.D., 


PH  ILADEL-PHIA 


PHILAlrELFHIA: 
PRESBYTERIAN  PUBLISHING  COlVrPANY, 

No.  1 512  Chestnut  Street. 
1884. 


Entered  ;i.ccordiug  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of 
Congress,  at  Washington,  I).  C,  A.  D.  1884,  by  Thr  Presbyterian  Printincj 
AND  Publishing  Company,  Philadelphia, 


ISTOTIOIE]- 


The  Publishers  take  pleasure  in  presenting 
to  the  public  Volume  III  of  Sermons  by  the 
late  Rev.  Charles  Wadsworth,  D.D.,  which  we 
are  very  glad  to  be  able  to  present  to  his 
friends  in  a  permanent  form.  It  is  due  to  Dr. 
Wadsworth  to  say  that  they  have  been  printed 
from  his  manuscript  just  as  they  were  delivered, 
and  without  any  revisal  except  such  as  could  be 
given  them  as  the  book  was  passing  through 
the  press. 

Philadelphia,  March,  1884. 


OOiTTDE33SrTS. 


PAGE. 

God  is  King 1 

The  Wages  of  Sin 16 


Death  Foretold 29 

The  Great  Query 50 

A  Faithful  Saying 06 

Cross  and  Crown 77 

God's  Forbearance 01 

A  Living  Sacrifice 113 

The  Centurion 129 

Oum.  Heirship 143 

The  Conscience 1 55 

A  Happy  People 167 


CONTENTS.     . 

PAGE. 

Pukific;ati()N 185 

Unheeded  Warning 200 

The  Onia'   Deliverer 213 

The  Lamp  of  Life 227 

A  lioYAL  Highway 241 

Heart  Issues 251 

Ripping  Tares 261 

Omnipresence 270 

Omnipotence 285 


SERMONS 


GOD  IS  KING. 


*^  And  let  his  heart  be  changed  from  mail's,  and  let  a  beasfs  heart 
be  given  him^ 

"  And  N'ebuchadnezzar  was  driven  from  men,  and  did  eat  grass  as 
oxen''' — Daniel  iv.  t^t^. 

Every  generation  of  men  since  the  time  of  Nimrod 
has  had  its  own  favorite  toy  or  plaything,  its  special 
pastime — religiously,  its  own  idol  to  worship ;  intellectu- 
ally, its  own  bubble  to  inflate;  physically,  its  own  hobby 
to  bestride ;  in  the  realms  of  the  material,  some  "  bone 
of  contention ;  in  the  moral  spheres,  some  "  thesis  of 
controversy.''  And  the  same  is  true  of  our  generation. 
Indeed,  in  this  we  excel  all  the  past.  We  out-Herod 
all  old  Herods. 

Bodily,  we  have  a  hundred  hobbies  to  ride.  Intel- 
lectually, a  thousand  drums  to  beat.  Spiritually  and 
morally,  always  more  than  one  banner  to  blazon,  one 
trumpet  to  blow. 

Just  at  this  moment  the  grand  thesis  of  contention  is 
this  protoplastic  genesis  of  life,  this  natural  law  of 
development.  But,  popular  as  it  is,  methinks  we  are 
getting  tired  of  it.  The  drum-beat  has  become  monot- 
onous.    The  Tom-foolery  is  played  out. 


2  GOD  IS  KING. 

♦  ^^Development!  Development!"  The  platform,  the 
press,  the  pulpit,  have  resounded  with  the  war-cry,  till 
the  popular  ear  is  weary !  \ye  all  feel  that  men  have 
wasted  enough  precious  time  in  this  sham-battle  in 
testimony  to  the  Atheist's  dream  and  the  Prophet's  inter- 
pretation. Even  the  infidel  Baalams  are  becoming 
ashamed  of  their  attempts  to  curse  Israel,  and  only  a 
few  of  the  slower  and  more  stubborn  asses  think  it 
needful  any  longer  to  rebuke  the  false  prophet.  If  any 
man  will  continue  to  believe  that  he  is  only  an  im- 
proved beast,  we  will  not  quarrel  with  his  genesis,  but 
only  wish  him  joy  of  his  grandmother.  Whenever  he 
can  bring  us,  either  out  of  the  old  fields  of  death  or  the 
new  spheres  of  life,  a  single  specimen  of  an  irrational 
animal  which  has  ascended  into  a  veritable  man,  with 
an  aspiring  mind  and  a  controlling  conscience,  we  will 
pause,  like  Moses,  and  take  the  shoes  from  our  feet,  to 
behold  the  marvel  and  search  for  its  meaning. 

Meanwhile,  we  commend  to  the  whole  infidel  world 
the  consideration  of  innumerable  specimens — incontro- 
vertible facts  of  man — with  such  a  conscience  and  in- 
tellect, by  a  resistless  law  of  sinful  deterioration  daily 
getting  rid  of  them,  and  surely,  if  slowly,  descending 
into  beasts.  We  expect  them  to  consider  this  protoplasm 
of  evil,  this  downward  development  of  corruption,  this 
progress  backward  of  sin !  They  can  find  in  the  his- 
tories of  all  the  past,  in  an  observation  of  all  the 
present,  abundant  specimens,  in  every  stage  of  develop- 
ment, of  living  men  changing  gradually  into  beasts. 
We  meet  them  daily  in  the  street  and  market-place  and 
dwelling — creatures  made  in  God's  image  only  a  few 
years  ago.     Your  gentle,  loving  youth,  the  sweet  airs  of 


GOD  IS  KING.  3 

heaven  fanning  their  sunny  brows,  the  light  of  heaven 
in  their  flashing  eyes,  the  joy  of  heaven  in  their  bound- 
ing hearts.  Now  those  sunny  locks  torn  and  tangled, 
those  bright  eyes  blood-shot,  that  face  haggard  and 
wan,  their  breath  a  blasphemy,  their  influence  a  curse, 
their  very  lives  an  agony  !  Degraded,  brutalized  into 
the  wretches  and  ruffians  of  the  ruder  world.  Life 
abounds  with  the  specimen.  We  have  one  of  them,  by 
the  pencil  of  inspiration,  terribly  portrayed  in  the  text. 

I  will  not  detain  you  with  the  historic  context.  Every 
child  knows  it  by  heart.  The  scone  is  Babylon,  a  city 
of  whose  almost  fabulous  magnificence  we  can  now 
form  no  adequate  conception — the  crowning  work  of 
the  most  glorious  builder  of  the  heathen  world !  And 
in  the  centre  of  that  metropolis,  the  most  wonderful  of 
all  its  wonders,  behold  Nebuchadnezzar's  palace.  Its 
hanging  gardens  and  imperial  pavilions,  occupying  an 
area  of  eight  miles  in  circumference,  filled  with  all  that 
oriental  genius  could  imagine,  or  its  exquisite  art  create, 
or  its  boundless  treasure  realize,  to  gratify  royal  pride 
and  enrapture  royal  passion.  Seemingly  a  mansion  in 
some  island  of  the  blest  for  the  habitation  of  a  god. 

Such  was  Babylon — "  The  Golden  City,  the  Lady  of 
Kingdoms,  the  grandest  city  the  sun  ever  rose  upon,  the 
praise  and  the  glory  of  the  whole  earth.'' 

And  this  is  the  scene  which  our  text  brings. to  view; 
and  as  an  actor  worthy  such  a  scene  we  behold  the 
royal  conqueror.  "W  e  say  "  worthy"  such  a  scene ;  for 
certainly,  humanly  speaking,  as  a  historic  man  Nebu- 
chadnezzar was  never  surpassed,  if,  indeed,  ever  equalled. 
Sprung  from  the  old  Assyrian  line  of  conquerors,  his 
aspiring  soul  could  not  be  satisfied  with  ancestral  and 


4  GOD  IS  KING. 

inherited  glory,  and  he  fixed  his  eye  on  the  highest  and 
mightiest  of  earthly  prizes,  and  won  them  all. 

In  the  grandeur  of  his  military  achievements,  in  the 
vastness  of  his  empire,  in  the  absoluteness  of  his  despotic 
power,  in  the  fullness  of  his  royal  riches  and  delights, 
his  mental  experience  left  him  nothing  to  achieve  or 
desire.  And  it  is  in  this  crowning  moment  of  his  grati- 
fied ambition  he  appears  in  the  text.  We  see  him 
standing  at  the  height  of  all  that  splendor  and  power, 
looking  down  upon  that  glorious  Babylon  he  had 
builded,  and  abroad  upon  the  nations  he  had  subdued 
and  the  universal  empire  he  had  founded,  truly  a  king 
of  kings,  a  conqueror  of  conquerors,  the  most  mar- 
velous and  magnificent  man  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 
It  is  a  grand  scene  and  a  grand  actor.  But  alas  for  the 
act! 

As  we  gaze,  a  great  shadow  falls  over  it.  That  ex- 
ulting man  seems  suddenly  transfigured,  as  if  some  ter- 
rible curse  had  smitten  him.  His  eyes  glare.  His  frame 
is  convulsed.  He  dashes  his  crown  to  the  earth.  He 
rends  his  imperial  robes.  A  wild  delirium  has  seized 
him.  His  heroic  impulses  are  gone.  The  instincts  and 
pa^^sions  of  the  wild  beast  are  strong  within  him.  He 
descends  from  his  hanging  gardens.  He  stalks  through 
the  crowd  of  courtiers  and  menials.  He  passes  his 
palace  portals  as  if  pursued  by  fiends.  He  hurries  from 
the  abodes  of  men,  and,  turning  away  from  all  intel- 
lectual and  social  delights,  roams  the  wild  field  and  has 
his  home  with  the  beasts.  This  is  the  picture.  We 
commend  it  to  the  infidel.  Let  us  learn  its  moral 
lessons. 

To  us  tarrying  here  in  God's  house,  they  may  be  com- 


GOD  IS  KING.  5 

prehended  iu  these  two :  This  man''s  sin^  and  his  pun- 
ishment. 

Let  us  consider,  First — Nebuchadnezzar's  sin — what 
the  iniquity  was  which  brought  upon  him  this  Divine 
visitation. 

Now  I  need  hardly  say  that  this  sin  did  not  consist 
in  simply  building  a  grand  city,  and  adorning  it  royally. 
Self-considered,  it  was  as  right  and  as  wise  for  Nebu- 
chadnezzar to  build  a  metropolis  on  the  Euphrates  as 
for  Solomon  to  make  Jerusalem  glorious  by  the  waters 
of  Hebron.  Indeed,  in  their  outward  acts  these  two 
monarchs  were  not  unlike.  Solomon,  while  yet  remain- 
ing a  true  servant  and  especial  favorite  of  Jehovah, 
greatly  glorified  his  metropolis.  He  built  for  himself 
a  palace  of  such  magnitude  and  splendor  that  it  took 
thirteen  years  to  finish  it.  And  he  built  one  scarcely 
less  splendid  for  his  Egyptian  Queen.  And  had  also  a 
house  of  the  Forests  of  Lebanon  modeled  after  the 
Palaces  of  Assyria.  And  he  built  many  "treasure 
cities,"  and  "jeweled  cities  with  bars  and  gates."  And 
he  planted  royal  gardens,  and  lavished  vastly  greater 
wealth  on  the  temple  he  built  in  Jerusalem  than  ever 
Nebuchadnezzar  on  his  temple  in  Babylon,  and  all  this 
God  approved.  The  sin,  therefore,  could  not  have  con- 
sisted in  the  outward  act,  but  in  its  manner  and  its 
motive. 

1st.  In  its  manner  or  mode.  The  treasures  which 
the  Israelitish  monarch  used  in  his  great  works  were 
saved  from  the  judicious  revenues  of  the  State,  and 
gathered  as  the  gains  of  a  just  and  lawful  commerce. 
But  the  splendid  city  and  temple  of  Babylon  were 
erected  from  spoils  wTung  from  conquered  nations  and 


6  GOD  IS  KING. 

by  the  exhaustive  labors  of  an  oppressed  people.  And 
so  we  find  that  God's  recorded  condemnation  was  not 
because  of  the  silver  and  gold  lavished  on  the  archi- 
tecture, but  it  was,  *^  Woe  unto  him  that  huildeth  a  town 
luith  blood  and  establisheth  a  city  by  iniquity J^ 

2d.  ]\Ieantime,  there  was  great  sin  in  the  motive.  Baby- 
lon was  built  and  adorned  solely  for  the  monarch's  selfish 
aggrandizement.  Even  in  the  erection  of  the  temple  for 
his  idols,  he  seems  to  have  been  thinking  mainly  of 
himself. 

But  the  devout  king  of  Israel  beautified  Zion  and 
lavished  his  immense  treasure  on  its  sanctuary  only  as 
a  worshipful  oifering  unto  Jehovah.  Observe  care- 
fully this  contrast  as  set  forth  in  the  sacred  record. 
King  Solomon  stood  amid  the  Bruces  of  the  nation, 
and  looking  in  humble  reverence  toward  that  grandest 
of  earthly  temples,  said,  '^Behold,  I  have  built  this  house 
for  the  name  of  the  Lord  God  of  IsraelJ^ 

Nebuchadnezzar  looked  from  the  battlement  of  the 
palace  upon  the  city  and  temple,  and  said  in  the  pride 
of  his  haughty  and  selfish  heart,  '^  Is  not  this  the 
erreat  Babylon  which  I  have  builded  for  the  house  of 
my  kingdom,  by  the  might  of  my  power  and  for  the 
honor  of  my  majesty/'  Here  you  perceive  the  glaring 
impiety,  both  in  the  mode  and  motive  of  these  great 
Avorks  of  Nebuchadnezzar.  They  were  conceived  in 
pure  selfishness  and  builded  in  blood.  This  was  the 
monarch's  sin. 

Let  us  consider.  Secondly — Its  Punishment — Of 
course,  the  record  leaves  us  in  no  doubt  that  his  terrible 
distemper  was  a  positive  retribution  from  God  for  his 
flagrant  iniquity.     And  yet  it  would  seem  to  have  been 


GOD  IS  KING.  7 

in  this  case,  unlike  Solomon,  wrought  out  according  to 
the  laws,  and,  indeed,  by  the  very  processes  of  his  in- 
tellectual and  moral  nature.  That  very  madness  was  a 
consequence  of  a  long  indulgence  of  fierce  and  unre- 
strained passion.  Its  elements  are  apparent  in  the 
history. 

1.  An  intense  dissatisfaction  with  the  preserit.  Xebu- 
chadnezzar  was  a  man  of  worldly  aspirations.  His 
ambitioD,  in  its  absolutely  illimitable  sweep  and  grasp^ 
lifted  him  above  the  measure  of  all  common  minds^ 
almost  into  the  sphere  of  higher  beings,  so  that  inspira- 
tion spoke  of  him  as  a  second  "Lucifer,  Son  of  the 
Morning."  His  soul  was  filled  with  intense  longings, 
which  nothing  earthly  could  satisfy.  And  standing 
just  at  the  loftiest  height  of  all  possible  mortal  glory, 
the  simple  fact  that  there  was  on  this  Avhole  broad 
world  nothing  greater  to  hope  for,  no  new  mountains  of 
ambition  for  his  daring  feet  to  climb,  no  new  worlds  for 
his  mighty  hands  to  conquer,  and  feeling,  meantime,  as 
every  such  grand  nature  does  and  must,  that  a  soul's 
delight  in  earthly  things  is  mainly  in  their  pursuit, 
rather  than  in  their  possession,  this  by  a  great  law  of 
his  nature  filled  his  heart  with  the  sharpest  anguish  of 
unrest. 

Rushing  toward  the  fancied  treasure  at  the  rainbow's 
base,  only  to  find  himself  enveloped  in  the  chill  and 
curse  of  the  cloud  and  rain.  And  that  sorest  of  agonies, 
a  disappointed  heart,  was  enough  to  drive  such  a  spirit 
forth  from  the  disenchanted  present,  as  if  in  very  envy 
of  the  unaspiring  beasts,  that,  to  the  full  of  every  low 
desire,  rioted  and  revelled  and  reposed  in  green  fields  and 
beside  still  waters.     Meantime,  beyond  this,  and  more 


8  GOD  IS  KING. 

terrible  in  its  power  and  torment,  there  was  in  his  ex- 
perience, 

2d,  TKe,  working  of  a  condemning  conscience.  Like 
all  men  of  such  grand  gifts  of  intellect,  he  was  natur- 
ally religious.  His  imagination  soared  into  higher 
realms  of  life ;  and  a  strong  normal  faith  took  on  the 
form  of  superstition.  His  natural  conscience,  ever  shift- 
ing in  its  direction,  now  impelling  him  to  fear  Jehovah 
and  now  to  make  an  image  of  Baal,  though  fitful  in  its 
operation,  was  terrible  in  its  power.  And  the  inspired 
record  shows  us  how  that  conscience  goaded  him  to 
madness. 

You  remember  the  inspired  words  of  the  prophet 
Habakkuk  (He  was  speaking  in  vision  ,of  Babylon  and 
its  builder},  when  he  said,  "  Woe  to  him  that  coveteth 
an  evil  covetousness  unto  his  house,  that  he  may  set  his 
nest  on  high.  Thou  hast  consulted  shame  to  thy  house 
by  cutting  off  many  people,  and  hast  sinned  against 
thine  own  soul.^'  And  then  he  explains  the  philosophic 
working  out  of  the  terrible  anathema.  "  For  the  stone 
shall  cry  out  of  the  wall,  and  the  beam  out  of  the  tim- 
ber shall  answer  it.  Woe  to  him  that  buildeth  a  town 
with  blood  and  establisheth  a  city  by  iniquity." 

The  thought  is,  that  having  reared  this  metropolis  by 
the  strength  and  spoils  of  destroyers,  his  own  conscience 
became  a  terrible  accuser,  and  as  he  walked  through  its 
high  places  and  its  luxuriant  gardens  and  voluptuous 
pavilions,  it  was  as  if  avenging  spectres  were  ever  rising 
before  him — o-hosts  of  his  slaughtered  victims — and 
accusing  voices  ever  whisjiering  around  him,  as  if  lit- 
erally the  carved  marble  of  the  wall  cried,  "Woe! 
woe !  woe !"  and  the  gilded  cedar  of  the  canopy  cried. 


GOD  IS  KING.  9 

"  Woe  !  woe !  woe  !'^  And  surely  here  was  enough  to 
drive  him  forth,  as  an  unblessed  spirit,  from  the  music 
and  the  banquet  and  the  home  and  the  fair  forms  and 
dazzling  enchantments  of  that  gorgeous  palace  (as  if  for 
all  these  things  only  more  terribly  a  place  of  torment),  to 
the  green  fields  and  bright  streams,  where  his  peaceful 
oxen  fed. 

But  even  more  than  this  does  this  inspired  Book  tell 
us  of  the  retributive  working  of  conscience,  in  the 
anguish  of  the  guilty  king.  Another  inspired  prophet 
describes  its  workings  as  being  not  only  with  memories 
of  the  mortal  past,  but  w4th  anticipations  of  the  immor- 
tal future ;  and  in  one  of  the  most  startling  conceptions 
human  language  ever  embodied  represents  the  same 
conqueror  as  approaching  Hades,  the  mysterious  realm 
of  departed  spirits ;  and  as  he  stands  near  its  sepulchral 
portal,  to  his  condemning  conscience  come  forth  awful 
voices  of  hollow  laughter,  and  all  the  ghosts  of  the 
myriads  he  had  slain  in  his  cruel  wars  seem  rising  up  to 
meet  him  in  mockery.  These  are  the  inspired  truths, 
"  Hell  is  moved  to  meet  thee  at  thy  coming.  It  stirreth 
up  the  dead  for  thee ;  and  they  speak  to  thee  and  say, 
*  Is  this  the  man  that  made  the  earth  to  tremble,  that  did 
shake  great  kingdoms,  and  made  the  world  a  wilderness  ? 
Art  thou  also  become  weak  as  we?  And  is  all  thy 
pomp  brought  down  to  the  grave  ?  How  art  thou 
fallen  from  heaven,  O  Lucifer,  Son  of  the  Morning  ?''' 
And  surely  in  all  this  there  is  enough  to  account  for  his 
terrible  madness ! 

With  other  men,  Babylon  seemed  "the  Golden  City,  the 
Lady  of  Kingdoms,"  the  pride  and  glory  of  the  whole 
earth :  and  they  saw  only  shapes  of  glory  and  heard 


10  GOD  IS  KING. 

only  sounds  of  gladness.  But  with  its  guilty,  conscience- 
strickeu  builder,  as  he  sat  enthroned  in  its  high  places, 
and  looked  around  only  to  hear  these  strange  voices  cry- 
ing out  from  tapestried  walls  and  golden  canopies, 
'"''  AVoe !  woe !  woe  unto  him  that  buildeth  a  city  in 
blood !"  and  looked  forward  only  to  hear  more  terri- 
ble voices  of  the  ghostly  creatures  of  eternity,  crying, 
"  Behold  all  hell  stirreth  up  her  dead  to  meet  thee  at  thy 
coming  !'^  then  I  say  it  is  no  marvel  thus  in  that  hour 
of  his  almost  superhuman  majesty  the  guilty  king  seems 
smitten  with  a  curse ;  that  his  eyes  glare  and  his  hands 
are  clenched,  and  he  rends  his  garment  and  casts  his 
diadem  to  the  dust,  and  in  the  torrent  of  a  mighty  de- 
lirium, as  if  flying  from  some  great  Petrary  of  death, 
some  pandemonium  of  demons,  rushes  from  garden  and 
palace  to  eat  straw  like  a  beast. 

]S'ow,  this  is  the  inspired  picture  that  hangs  before 
you.  Its  meaning  to  us  is  simply  a  warning  unto  the 
ungodly.  It  sets  forth  selfishness — the  folly  of  the 
man  who,  thoughtless  of  eternity,  lives  only  for  time, 
and  it  illustrates  that  folly  in  two  particulars. 

1st.  Because  no  amount  of  xoorldly  prosperity  will 
satisfy  the  yearnings  of  an  inwiortal  spirit  Surely  no 
mortal  man  can  hope  to  attain  more  of  this  world  than 
did  Nebuchadnezzar.  He  was  of  all  men  of  his  time, 
every  way,  the  first.  First  by  birth;  first  by  genius; 
first  by  achievement ;  and  yet  set  his  nest  among  the 
stars.  You  see  him  here  turning  avv'ay  from  life's 
highest  prizes  in  utter  disappointment.  And  so,  in  the 
very  nature  of  things,  it  must  be  and  will  be  ever. 
Great  as  the  world  is,  it  is  yet  too  small  to  fill  the 
capacities  and   satisfy  the  desires  of  a  deathless  spirit. 


GOD  IS  KING,  11 

Let  a  man,  in  regard  of  wealth  or  ambition,  secure  life's 
highest  successes,  and  climb  to  the  loftiest  height  of 
earthly  influence  and  renown,  until  with  meaner  men 
he  seems  standing  on  some  glorious  tower  that  reaches 
to  the  skies.  Nevertheless,  with  himself,  the  boundless 
firmaments  of  heaven  seem  as  far  above  him  as  before. 
And,  alas !  (only  the  mo#e  for  his  elevation  above  his 
kind)  will  the  air  be  colder  and  storms  and  lightnings 
more  fierce.  Within  him  the  deep,  yearning,  mighty 
want  of  immortality  will  be  all  unfed,  and  the  agoniz- 
ing spirit  turns  away  dissatisfied. 

A  true  prophet  of  God !  Oh  faithful  picture  of  a 
worldly  life !  How  have  we  seen  it  realized  in  the  lives 
of  all  great  sages  and  bards  and  monarchsand  conquerors ! 

In  Alexander's  raining  tears,  in  Byron's  wounded 
spirit,  in  Napoleon's  broken  heart,  in  all  men  who  live 
only  for  self.  But,  then,  this  is  not  all.  There  is  some- 
thing more  in  a  life  of  worldlincss  than  this  mere  sor- 
row of  disappointment.     It  involves, 

2d.  An  element  of  retribution.  I  say  an  element,  for 
my  text  does  not  lead  me  to  speak  of  any  supernatural 
manifestation  of  God's  punishment  of  sin.  That  there 
may  be  such  manifestations,  we  have  already  learned 
from  our  study  of  the  picture  of  the  Tower  of  Babel 
and  the  Cities  of  the  Plain. 

But  in  the  picture  at  present  there  is  no  delineation 
of  such  things.  Babylon  was  in  the  very  highest  of 
its  matchless  splendor  when  this  agony  fell  on  its 
triumphant  builder.  No  lightning  smote  it.  No  earth- 
quake engulfed  it.  You  see  here  only  the  natural  retri- 
bution of  an  accusing  conscience.  And  thus,  by  the 
very  laws  of  our  mind,  it  must  be  ever. 


12  GOD  IS  KING. 

Talk  as  men  will,  we  are  all  by  nature  religious  be- 
ings ;  or,  if  the  term  suit  you  better,  "  superstitious'^ 
beings.  We  have  seen  or  heard  of  the  veriest  infidels, 
the  veriest  atheists,  who  can  suddenly  with  circumstances 
of  mentii^l  peril,  when  the  earthquake  was  shaking  the 
city,  or  the  ocean  was  driving  the  frail  bark  into  ship- 
wreck, then  lifting  up  trembling  hands  to  heaven  for 
Divine  aid,  uttering  agonizing  prayers  for  deliverance. 

Every  man  has  a  conscience  which  avenges  his  sin,  and 
as  every  man  living  only  for  this  world  is  committing 
every  moment  the  greatest  sin  in  forgetting  his  Creator, 
and,  meantime,  sinning  often  in  some  WTong  done  to  his 
fellow-men,  therefore  he  is  constantly  arming  his  con- 
science against  himself  as  accuser  and  avenger.  Or, 
even  if  you  can  suppose  him  all  innocent  of  any  fla- 
grant iniquity,  he  is  yet  certainly  doing  just  as  ]N"ebu- 
chadnezzar  did.  He  is  doing  violence  to  his  own  higher 
and  immortal  nature.  He  is  turning  away  from  his 
true  moral  and  spiritual  manhood  to  gratify  the  instincts 
of  his  mere  earthly  and  animal  nature,  ^^That  his  hair 
may  grow  like  eagle's  feathers,  and  his  nails  like  bird's 
claws."  And  in  doing  this  he  is  arming  memory  and 
conscience  against  his  own  soul  as  terrible  tormentors. 

Grant  only  that  the  soul  is  immortal,  and  that,  with 
its  sins  unforgiven  and  its  moral  constitution  unregen- 
erate,  it  goes  into  eternity,  and  you  have  admitted  the 
whole  truth  of  retribution.  For  among  the  more  appa- 
rent faculties  of  the  soul  are  memory  and  conscience, 
and  these  are  retribution.  For  you  have  only  to  sup- 
pose that  the  conqueror  remembers  in  the  immortal 
sphere  the  battle-fields  his  ambition  covered  with  car- 
nage, or  that  the  murderer  remembers  the  death-cry  of 


GOD  IS  KING.  13 

his  victim,  or  that  the  men  who  grew  rich  by  dishonesty 
or  extortion  think  solemnly  of  the  widow's  dismantled 
home  and  the  orphan's  broken  heart ;  or  that  the  dis- 
obedient child,  the  unfaithful  husband,  the  unkind 
parent,  carries  into  eternity  an  abiding  memory  of  the 
pale  faces  and  weeping  eyes  of  the  beloved  and  loving 
dead.  You  have  only  to  suppose,  I  say,  that  such 
things  do  live  in  the  memory  and  conscience;  that 
the  immortal  sphere  shall  seem  crowded  with  their 
shapes  and  echoing  with  their  voices.  And  then  let 
that  immortal  sphere  be  even  the  brightest  dwelling  of 
heaven,  his  experience  will  be  like  Nebuchadnezzar  in  his 
conscience-haunted  palace ;  and  he  will  walk  through 
the  pearl  gates  of  a  heavenly  city,  and  behold  its  golden 
streets  and  skies  of  cloudless  sunshine,  and  wear  its  dia- 
dems of  glory  and  its  robes  of  dazzling  light,  and  sit 
under  the  shadows  of  its  trees  of  life,  and  walk  the 
banks  of  the  crystal  river,  and,  alas !  alas !  it  will  be 
only  as  the  tribulated  monarch  bearing  his  great  agony 
within  him,  for  dire  forms  of  evil  from  his  spirit's 
chambers  of  imagery  will  project  themselves  into  those 
radiant  surroundings.  Their  wild  eyes  will  look  on 
him,  and  wierd  voices  appal  him.  "  And  the  stone  will 
cry  out  of  the  wall,  and  the  beam  out  of  the  timber 
answer  it ;"  and  he  will  cast  the  crown  of  glory  from 
his  head. 

These  are  the  simplest  and  more  apparent  lessons  of 
the  inspired  picture  that  hangs  before  us.  Oh,  that 
you  would  study  it,  all  you  joyous  youth  and  ambitious 
men,  who  seek  your  only  portion  in  this  world,  and 
think  to  make  yourselves  happy  with  these  poor,  un- 
satisfying, vanishing  things  of  time  and  sense !     Re- 


14  GOD  IS  KING. 

member !  Remember  that  it  is  not  in  our  circumstances 
or  conditions  that  even  earthly  happiness  consists !  But 
it  is  in  the  peace  of  an  approving  conscience  and  the 
loving  smiles  of  a  God. 

Oh  this  picture !  this  picture  !  Study  it  as  a  warn- 
ing of  heavenly  love,  as  the  light  of  eternity  falls  on  it 
and  around!  Study  it,  too,  as  God  meant  it  to  be 
studied — in  striking  contrast  with  the  other  pictures 
tliat  hang  side  by  side  with  it  in  this  marvelous  gal- 
lery, the  Book  of  Daniel. 

We  shall  consider  them  carefully  hereafter ;  but  now, 
in  parting,  cast  your  eye  for  a  single  moment  on  that 
which  hangs  next  to  it — that  den  of  lions.  Ah  me! 
what  a  change  is  here,  alike  in  the  scene  and  the  actor. 
Daniel  was  a  poor  captive.  In  his  early  youth  he  had 
been  borne  as  a  slave  from  the  house  of  his  father  and 
the  city  of  his  God,  to  wait  on  this  mighty  despot  in  his 
splendid  palace.  And  when  by  his  wise  and  beautiful 
life  he  had  risen  to  a  station  of  honor,  just  then  he  is 
stricken  down,  seemingly  to  disgrace  and  distraction. 
He  is  seized  by  mighty  men.  He  is  torn  away  from 
his  beloved  ones.  He  is  hurried  to  the  horrible  den 
where  the  monstrous  beasts  are  fed.  He  can  hear  their 
fierce  roars  as  they  rage  for  their  prey. 

The  iron  door  opens ;  he  is  cast  in.  It  closes  upon 
him ;  and  he  is  face  to  face  with  that  terrible  death. 
"We  see  the  mighty  beasts.  They  glare  on  him  for  a 
moment  with  their  fiery  eyes.  They  bare  their  white 
fangs.  The  cavern  shakes  with  their  awful  roars.  They 
are  crouching  for  the  deadly  spring.  Behold !  Behold ! 
You  shut  your  own  eyes  and  recoil.  But  what  is  it  ? 
Listen  for  his   death-cry.     A  soft,  sweet  voice,  as  of 


GOD  IS  KING.  15 

heavenly  music,  steals  upon  the  ear.  A  wondrous  light, 
growing  brighter  and  brighter,  flashes  through  the 
scene.  A  form  of  ineffable  beauty  and  majesty  descends 
upon  the  sight !  The  face  is  as  a  flaming  fire ;  the  gar- 
ments white  as  the  light.  And  there,  his  eyes  flashing, 
his  heart  bounding  with  rapturous  love,  all  fear  gone, 
stands  the  glorified  servant  of  God,  face  to  face  with 
the  angel ;  and  the  terrible  creatures  of  the  desert,  driven 
back  from  their  prey,  despoiled  of  all  terror,  seemingly 
changed  in  their  very  nature,  crouching  silently  and 
gently  at  his  feet. 

Oh  marvelous  picture !  Now  note  the  other.  Oh 
thrice  marvelous  contrast !  See  the  all-glorious  con- 
queror in  his  royal  hall.  Its  floor  of  marble,  its  pillars 
of  alabaster,  its  walls  hung  with  wondrous  pictures, 
sparkling  with  gold  and  gems ;  and  around,  music  and 
banquet  and  wine  and  rose-odors  and  forms  of  dazzling  ^ 
beauty.     Oh  scene  of  enchantment ! 

But  the  monarch  !  what  ailetli  him?  Starting,  as  if 
from  a  dream  of  heaven,  his  eyes  blazing  in  terror,  re- 
coiling, fleeing,  as  the  awful  shapes  go  by  and  the 
terrible  voices  cry,  "Woe!  woe!'^  Oh  wondrous  con- 
trast !  Oh  blessed  wisdom  of  God  in  this  fearful  reve- 
lation !  Oh  God !  give  me  that  black  cave  filled  with 
material  roaring  monsters,  and  at  my  side  God's  angel, 
filling  its  chill,  black  airs  with  heavenly  music,  and  you 
may  keep  pavilion  and  palace  and  throne  of  the  con- 
quering king.  Where  the  more  terrible  spectres  of  the 
soul  flit  and  scream,  and  the  stone  out  of  the  wall  cries, 
"  Woe !  woe  r  And  the  beam  out  of  the  timber 
answers,  "  Woe  !  w^oe!  woe!" 


THE  WAGES  OF  SIN. 


"  The  -wages  of  sin  is  Deaths — Romans  vi.  23. 

We  need  not  in  the  introduction  of  our  remarks 
detain  you  at  any  length  in  examining  the  fine  and 
elaborate  argument  of  the  context.  Paul  was  address- 
ing Christians  in  the  infancy  of  their  knowledge,  and 
still  deeply  infected  with  the  spirit  of  legalism  ;  and  he 
found  it  a  most  difficult  thing  to  bring  them  to  an 
apprehension  how  the  salvation  of  the  Gospel  was 
afforded  on  the  ground  simply  of  a  pure  grace,  and  not 
at  all  on  the  ground  of  a  personal  merit.  And  the 
peculiar  phraseology  of  the  text  is  to  be  accounted  for 
on  the  principle  of  accommodation  to  their  favorite  con- 
ceptions, which  inclined  them  ever  to  look  forward  to 
retribution  as  a  reward  or  remuneration.  The  opera- 
tion of  the  system  of  vassalage  or  servitude  was  to  them 
most  familiar.  And  the  business  so  common  in  the 
midst  of  them — of  a  servant^s  work  and  a  servant's 
wages — Paul  found  to  be  most  to  his  purpose  in  an 
illustration  of  the  great  theme  he  then  had  in  hand.  So 
in  the  preceding  context  he  had  been  finely  setting  forth 
the  great  moral  change  of  regeneration  under  the  figure 
of  a  transition  from  the  service  of  one  master  to  the 
service  of  another,  or,  rather,  under  the  figure  of  a  glori- 
ous deliverance  from  the  thrall  and  the  despotism  of  an 
oppressive  tyranny,  to  the  blessed  liberty  of  a  free  and  a 
filial   obedience.     And   of  this   most   fine   and   fitting 


THE   WAGES  CF  SIN.  IT 

figure  our  text  forms  a  part.  Its  reference  is  to  the 
state  of  the  soul  anterior  to  its  deliverance  from  this 
great  moral  thraldom.  And  its  lessons  may  be  regarded 
as  *^f  two  distinct  classes,as  •  they  liave  reference  to 
the  nature  of  this  sinful  service,  and  the  rewards  of  this 
sinful  service,  i.  e.,  as  setting  forth — 

First  The  work,  and, 

Secondly,  The  wages  of  this  bondage  to  sinfulness. 

And  leaving  for  the  present  all  consideration  of  the 
other  particulars  of  the  metaphor,  we  shall  dwell  on 
these  two  thoughts,  happily  in  order;  and. 

First.  AVe  would  have  you  observe  how  the  Apostle 
here  sets  forth  the  whole  business  of  sin  as  a  servitude 
and  a  slavery. 

The  man  who  hath  not  experienced  in  the  new  birth 
the  transition  to  a  re;joicing  liberty  is  set  forth  as  under 
sin's  dominion  of  despotism,  and  w^orking  daily  for 
wages.  Now  this  word  is  but  weakly  and  imperfectly 
rendered  by  the  English  term — wages.  In  the  original 
it  denotes  that  which  is  eaten  with  bread,  as  flesh,  fruit, 
etc.  And,  as  under  the  old  military  despotism  common 
soldiers  were  paid  in  daily  rations,  the  term  came  to  be 
used  for  the  pay  of  Roman  soldiery.  The  representa- 
tion, therefore,  of  those  who  receive  it  is  as  in  a  state  of 
military  service  and  subjection.  And  you  need  not,  one 
of  you,  be  told  how  wearisome  was  the  labor,  and  how 
painful  the  servitude  of  those  who,  in  the  work  of  a 
common  soldiery,  bore  on  through  battle  and  blood  the 
eagles  of  the  Empire.  The  old  Roman  soldiery  was 
accustomed  to  endure  the  rudest  fatisrue,  to  subsist  on 
the  most  frugal  fare,  to  carry  a  weight  of  armor  which 
would  crush  a  modern  soldier  into  the  dust,  and  to  march 


13  THE   WAGES  OE  SIN, 

daily  distances  almost  incredible  to  the  men  of  our 
•effeminate  generation.  The  state  of  soldiership  was  a 
state  of  the  strictest  servitude,  and  the  most  painful  and 
exhausting  labor.  And,  therefore,  in  the  dead  language, 
to  speak  of  a  man  as  ^^  receiving  wages,^^  i.  6.,  military 
rations  at  all,  was  to  speak  of  him  as  bound  to  a  con- 
dition of  intense  toil  and  intolerable  thraldom. 

And,  therefore,  we  say,  that  first  of  all  the  text  sets 
forth  the  state  of  the  unmoved  soul  as  a  state  of  most 
painful  servitude ;  yea,  a  state  so  painful  and  labor- 
ious that  a  relief  therefrom  at  the  moment  of  regene- 
ration is  finely  compared  to  the  transition  from  a  cruel 
despotism  to  the  glorious  liberty  of  a  filial  heirship. 

And  this,  my  hearers,  is  a  most  truthful  representa- 
tion. There  is  no  wilder  misapprehension  in  the  world 
than  the  notion  that  it  is  the  Christian  who  becomes  a 
servant,  and  the  impenitent  and  ungodly  who  remain 
in  their  liberty.  Compared  with  the  assiduous  strug- 
gling and  unremitted  exertion  of  men  struggling  only 
for  a  temporal  possession,  all  the  loftiest  manifestation 
of  Christian  toil  is  but  a  pastime  and  a  privilege. 

The  merchantman  rises  early  and  sits  up  late,  and 
the  very  dreams  of  his  restless  sleep  are  but  the  pro- 
longed agonies  of  his  waking  anxieties  that  he  may, 
add  to  the  gold  that  rusts  in  his  coffers. 

The  mariner  unmoors  for  distant  climes,  and  stands 
out,  braving  storm  and  shipwreck,  and  he  is  burnt  under 
tropic  suns,  and  hemmed  in  by  polar  ice,  and  beaten 
fearfully  by  rushing  tempests,  and  for  long  months 
there  is  naught  but  the  frail  planks  between  him  and 
the  unfathomed  depths  of  the  ocean  grave,  that  he  may 
bring  back  the  furs  and  spices  for  the  rich  man's  home. 


THE   WAGES  OE  SIN.  19 

The  seeker  for  goodly  pearls  goes  forth  in  the  bosom 
of  the  sea,  and  holds  his  breath  hard,  and  though 
storms  are  above,  and  fearful  monsters  of  the  deep 
beneath,  and  the  weight  of  mighty  waters  on  his  soli- 
tary heart,  down,  down  amid  the  cold,  dark  sea  he  goes, 
wringing  out  heart  and  soul  for  these  toys  for  princely 
robes. 

The  scholar  poureth  the  livelong  night,  till  his  eye 
dims  and  his  brain  burns  over  the  mighty  problem  and 
the  mystic  page. 

And  the  statesman  bows  his  soul  from  its  immortal 
flight,  wearing  out  heart  and  life  in  anxious  agonies. 

And  the  poet  wrings  out  his  very  life's  blood,  drop 
by  drop,  amid  the  scorpion  stingings  of  a  hope  de- 
ferred. 

And  the  conqueroV,  worn  and  wasted,  as  if  demonized 
by  a  wild  desire,  drives  his  fierce  horse  aloncr  the  ranks 
of  battle,  struggling  with  destiny  itself  in  the  energies  of 
despair,  and  the  very  world,  with  all  its  kingdoms  and 
crowns  and  thrones,  presses  Avith  crushing  weight  on  life 
and  heart  and  soul.  And  all  this  for  the  leaf  of  a  laurel 
that  shall  fade  as  the  grave.  And  who  calls  this,  and 
such  as  this,  and  worse  than  this,  of  enormous  toil  and 
agony  and  pain,  that  men  endure  for  sin.  Who  calls 
all  this  anything  else  than  servitude,  vassalage,  and 
slavery  ? 

Ah  me !  ah  me !  The  god  of  this  world  uses  his 
subjects  badly.  He  drives  them  forth  to  daily  task- 
bearing,  compared  with  which  Christ's  yoke  is  truly 
easy,  Christ's  burden  light.  The  histories  of  the  men 
of  this  world  are  histories  of  yearning  desire  and  toil- 
ing energies,  and  tears,  and  tortures,  and  very  martyr- 


20  THE   WAGES  OE  SIN, 

doms,  compared  with  which  the  bloodiest  records  of 
Christian  siifferiDgs  are  but  records  of  immunities  and 
pastimes. 

Forth  unto  the  ministries  of  liis  fearful  despotism 
goeth  the  sinner,  like  an  unblessed  spirit,  to  dive  for 
pearls  amid  the  cold  and  crushing  sea;  to  dig  for 
water  in  the  burning  desert,  and  find  only  the  hot  sand 
to  press  upon  his  feverish  lips;  to  toil  his  agonizing 
way  up  every  mountain  pinnacle,  as  if  a  path  to  heaven, 
and  find  only  the  frozen  rocks  beneath  and  the  roaring, 
rushing  storms  above,  around. 

So  that  if  in  contrast  with  all  this  you  dwell  in 
thought  upon  the  smaller  agonies  of  toil,  and  these 
made  lip^ht  bv  the  blessedness  of  hig^h  communion 
and  exalting  hope,  which  a  man  endures  for  Christ,  oh, 
then,  how  truly  is  that  change  of  mastership  experienced 
at  regeneration  set  forth  as  a  transition  from  a  cruel  and 
crushing  bondage  to  the  glad  freedom  of  a  filial  obedi- 
ence. And  how  manifestly  true  is  that  metaphor  which 
speaks  of  the  servant  of  sin  as  a  man  groaning  under 
the  due  military  economy,  bearing  mail  of  many  sheckles 
through  weary  marches  and  amid  the  wildest  tide  of 
battle.  And  how  touchingly  impressive  to  those  Roman 
converts,  living  in  the  midst  of  cumbrous  and  crushing 
machinery  of  conquest,  was  this  comparison  of  the  estate 
of  the  impenitent  sinner  as  a  poor  man  enlisted  amid 
those  iron  legions,  and  toiling  his  life  out  for  a  soldier\s 
wages. 

And  from  this  we  are  led  on  from  a  consideration  of 
the  nature  of  this  service  to  a  consideration  of  the  re- 
wards of  this  service ;  from  the  imposed  work  to  the 
imparted  wages  of    this   bondage    to    corruption.     Wc 


THE   WA  GES  OF  SIN,  21 

have  seen  how  harmful  is  the  labor,  how  exhaust- 
ing the  ministries,  how  heart-crushing  and  terrible  the 
agonies  of  the  service.  And  we  look  that  for  such 
mastering  and  mighty  exactions  there  should  be  the 
guerdon  of  some  enrapturing  and  magnificent  reward. 
And  the  heart  stands  absolutely  still  in  amazement  to  be 
told  that  for  all  this  livelong  assiduity  to  the  exactions 
of  a  most  intense  and  intolerable  despotism  the  only  re- 
muneration or  recompense  is  death  !  death  ! 

The  wages  of  sin  is — (?)  What  ?  Riches  ?  honor  ? 
pleasure?  kingly  pomps  and  regalia  and  popularity? 
laurels  that  shall  never  fade  ?  dwellings  that  shall  flash 
through  eternity  ?  No !  no !  no  !  All  these  are  the 
rewards  of  true  righteousness.  The  wages  of  sin  is 
death !  death  !  I  need  not  tell  you  what  death  means. 
Indeed,  I  can  not  tell  you  what  death  means.  In  the 
text's  true  antithesis  it  is  set  in  opposition  to  the  life 
that  is  eternal ;  ordinarily,  the  idea  of  the  separation 
of  soul  and  body.  But  that  is  not  all  of  death.  It  in- 
cludes the  idea  of  all  forms  of  temporal  and  final  evil. 
But  that  is  not  all  of  death.  It  includes  the  idea  of 
separation  from  Divine  communion  and  companionship. 
But  this  is  not  all  of  death,  for  beyond  and  above  all 
this  there  is  to  be  gathered  into  its  definition  that 
enormous  outlay  of  wrath  and  tribulation  and  anguish 
which  are  experienced  in  the  great  payment  of  retri- 
bution. 

And  this,  all  this,  which  the  eye  hath  not  seen,  and 
the  ear  hath  not  heard,  and  the  thought  hath  not  con- 
ceived of,  intolerable  and  o\'^rwhelming  agonies  of 
endurance.  All  this  is  the  fearful  guerdon  of  the  sin- 
ner's servitude ;  for  the  wages  of  sin  is  death. 


22  THE   WAGES  OF  SIN. 

And  the  fitness  of  this  phraseology  is  of  all  things 
most  apparent. 

1.  First  of  all,  there  is  included  in  it  the  idea  of 
Avages,  a  natural  issue  or  inevitable  tendency.  As  the 
soldier  must  have  his  rations  of  food,  so  the  sinner  must 
have  his  dreadful  wages.  Let  the  great  Paymaster  die, 
and  the  recompense  will  still  follow.  AYe  are  not, 
indeed,  competent  to  understand  the  connection  between 
the  moral  and  the  material  and  the  intellectual ;  but 
certified  we  are  that  such  a  connection  there  is  as  ren- 
ders the  reaping  of  death  the  natural  harvesting  of  a 
sinful  sowing. 

The  man  who,  either  in  the  delirium  of  pleasure  or 
the  hoardings  of  wealth  or  the  martyrdom  of  ambition, 
is  toiling  in  sinfulness,  is  wearing  out  most  rapidly  the 
springs  and  wheels  of  his  human  mechanism,  and  vir- 
tually sets  thorns  in  his  own  death  pillow,  and  digs  his 
own  grave.  And  so,  morally,  the  very  feelings  and 
emotions  called  into  play  and  pulsation  amid  this  sinful 
servitude  are  found,  on  principles  of  the  purest  meta- 
physics, to  be  in  their  own  nature  inconsistent  with  all 
happiness ;  and  so  eternally.  If  the  great  God  should 
just  let  go  of  the  soul  on  the  border-line  of  retribution, 
and  never  put  forth  a  power  to  gather  round  about  it  the 
machinery  and  ministry  of  a  separation  torment,  it 
would  be  ft)und  that  v/ith  the  accelerated  velocity  of  a 
mighty  engine,  through  all  the  hours  of  its  sinful  service, 
the  impulses  of  passionate  weeping  had  been  going  on 
within  it.  And,  brought  up  by  these  impulses  to  the 
border-line  of  eternity,  God  has  only  to  take  off  His 
restraining  hand,  and  with  a  fiery  and  terrific  momen- 
tum, like  a  wandering  star,  would  it  rush  away,  out- 


THE   WAGES  OE  SIN.  23 

ward-bound,  ever  outward-bound,  to  the  blackness  of 
darkness  forever. 

2,  But  beyond  this  idea  of  natural  fitness  there  is- 
embraced  in  the  idea  of  wages  a  thought  of  a  proper  re- 
ward, a  deserved  recompense.  Eternal  death  is  pre- 
cisely what  the  sinner  merits,  precisely  the  wages  which 
the  sinner  earns  by  his  painful  drudgery  of  foul  service.. 
I  kno^v  that  on  this  point  we  are  at  issue  with  the  cavils 
of  scepticism.  It  sets  out  with  the  assumption  that  sirt 
is  too  finite  an  evil  at  its  worst  to  receive  at  God's  hand 
an  infinite  j^unishment.  But  on  this  point  there  are 
two  questions  for  the  caviler  to  answer.  And  the  first 
is,  Where  has  he  learned  the  great  fact  of  sin's  insignifi- 
cance? For  on  such  a  point  human  testimony  hath  no 
significance,  with  an  eye  whose  weak  vision  can  not  pierce 
the  clouds  that  gather  round  this  isle  of  being,  and  a 
calculus  whose  mightiest  power  can  not  compute  the  first 
element  of  Infinity.  How  dare  he  claim  for  himself,  in 
an  unraveling  of  everlasting  issues,  an  enthronement  of 
his  feeble  thouirhts  over  all  the  hiorh  thino;s  of  eternity. 
Who,  who  hath  told  him  that  sin  is  too  insignificant  an 
evil  ?  What  crowned  creature  of  eternity,  from  those 
far  heights,  whereon  he  could  survey  the  vast  sweep  of 
human  actions  in  their  immortality  of  influence,  hath 
come  down  to  assure  him  that  the  unholy  thing  which 
hath  brought  such  unutterable  sorrow  into  the  hearts 
of  God's  lash-torn  family;  which  hath  shrouded  the 
brightest  world  in  God's  firmament  with  appalling  dark- 
ness ;  which  has  made  this  green  earth,  in  all  the  rich 
furniture  of  its  princely  chambers,  a  great  l^azar-house^ 
and  a  death-room,  and  a  Golgotha,  and  a  hell ;  which 
has  brought  God's  own  Son  out  of  yon  throne  of  in- 


24  THE   WAGES  OE  SIN. 

finite  majesty,  and  torn  off  His  Godly  robes,  and  His 
Godly  diadem,  and  put  on  Him,  in  mockery,  a  crown  of 
thorns  and  a  faded  pm-ple,  and  driven  nails  into  His 
hands,  and  the  iron  into  Plis  very  heart,  and  buried  Him 
deep  in  the  great  grave,  and  piled  rocks  upon  its  portals 
to  keep  Him  down,  down.  Who  ?  who  ?  Tell  me  who 
hath  descended  from  yon  pinnacles  of  glorious  life  to 
bear  witness  that  that  accursed  and  unholy  thing  w^hich 
hath  done  all  this  is  not  a  work  whose  fittino;  wajres 
must  be  death,  death. 

Kor  this  only.  There  is  another  point  to  be  sifted 
and  another  question  to  be  answered.  Who  has  told 
the  cavller  that  the  punishment  of  sin  is  in  its  degree 
infinite  ?  Oh,  this  cavil  goes  upon  a  forgetfulness  of 
the  awful  import  of  the  word,  '^  wages.^^  It  means 
daily  rations,  not  accumulated  possessions,  a  reward  paid 
day  by  day  fur  the  daily  service,  and  going,  as  the  im- 
penitent man  does,  a  continual  sinner,  to  eternity.  In 
all  those  moments  wdiich  constitute  immortality  (for 
eternity  to  a  creature  is  only  prolonged  time),  with  all  the 
realities  of  a  temporal  progress  and  a  temporal  succes- 
sion;  in  all  these  moments  he  Avill  receive  only  the 
payment  of  the  dread  wages  of  the  moment.  He  w^ill 
keep  sinning,  and,  therefore,  he  will  keep  suffering.  So 
long  as  God  lives  there  will  be  no  intermission  of  the 
work,  and  therefore  so  long  as  God  lives  there  will  be 
no  intermission  of  the  w^ages.  He  receives  a  ready 
payment  for  each  act,  and  therefore  the  work  is  alto- 
gether as  infinite  as  the  wages.  And  so  the  idea  of  hell 
as  co^isisting  only  in  a  place  of  punishment  for  earthly 
transgressions  is  short-falling  of  the  sad  truth.  It  is 
not  so  much  a  great  store-house,  where  the  sinner  in  his 


THE   WA  GES  OE  SIN.  25 

life-time  has  been  laying  up,  with  a  terrible  thrift,  his 
daily  earnings,  .but  it  is,  rather,  a  mighty  work-house, 
wherein  there  is  to  go  on  through  eternity  all  the 
drudgery  of  the  service  and  the  payment,  ready  and 
righteous,  moment  by  moment,  of  the  dread  recom- 
pense. And  so  that  sad  prison  of  the  outcast  and 
accursed,  with  all  its  iron  gates  and  adamantine  walls, 
and  mighty  fires  that  burn,  and  billows  of  God's  wrath 
that  moan  and  toss  themselves  and  roar,  is,  after  all, 
nothing  more  than  a  terrible  system  of  machinery, 
wherein  the  poor  craftsman  of  sin  weaves  day  by  day 
the  shroud  he  wears,  and  twines  day  by  day  the  hot  lash 
that  tortures  him,  and  forges  day  by  day  the  dreadful 
links  of  his  bondage.  Every  moment  of  his  long  eter- 
nitv  he  works  with  all  his  power  for  sin,  and  every 
moment  of  that  long  eternity  his  payment  down  is 
death  !  death ! 

3.  Age  and  all  never  thought  them,  this  comes  with 
that  dread  word  "  wages."  It  denotes  not  only  an  ap- 
propriate reward,  but  a  promised  reward.  It  has  refer- 
ence to  a  price  for  work  understood  and  agreed  upon. 
And  even  on  this  point,  as  terribly  astonishing  as  ter- 
ribly true  is  it,  that  death  is  sin's  wages. 

We  sometimes  speak  of  the  "poor  slave  of  sin  as  de- 
luded by  false  promises  into  this  dreadful  servitude. 
But  alas  I  alas  !  there  is  no  delusion.  The  sinner  was 
not  deceived.  He  bound  himself  in  everlasting  inden- 
ture to  that  awful  apprenticeship,  and  it  was  written  out 
so  plainly  that  he  read  every  awful  word.  Your  daily 
rations  shall  be  death.  Your  food  and  clothing  and 
wages  shall  be  death.  True,  there  was  mention  made 
of  pleasure.     But  God's  awful  truth  tore  the  visor  off, 


26  THE   WAGES  OF  SIN. 

and  the  soul  knew,  as  the  fair  phantom  was  clasped  to 
the  bosom,  that  the  painted  thing  was  a  corpse. 

And  there  was  mention  made  of  gold  ;  but  the  immor- 
tal hireling  knew  that,  gathered  to  his  bosom,  it  would 
be  the  dread  ballast  to  sink  him  in  drowning  agony 
when  the  bark  was  founderino^.  And  there  was  mention 
made  of  thrones ;  but  the  poor,  forewarned  sinner  knew 
that  he  girded  himself  for  its  mighty  labors,  and  strug- 
gled his  ascending  way  to  the  heights  that  flashed  out  in 
the  firmament  only,  as  a  leaping  point,  with  a  more  tre- 
mendous momentum  to  the  eternal  abysses  of  death. 
It  was  a  perfectly  understood  agreement.  There  was 
no  hiding  of  conditions,  no  concealment  of  awful  reali- 
ties. Sin  offered  no  other  reward  than  death.  The  poor 
hireling  agreed  to  work  night  and  day;  and  he  was  to 
feed  on  hot  ashes,  and  drink  poisons,  and  to  go  clothed 
in  a  shroud,  and  to  sleep  on  a  death-bed.  And  that  he 
might  have  a  home  for  himself,  as  a  reward  of  his  toil, 
he  took  a  lease  for  God's  life-time  of  a  dying  chamber  in 
the  mansion  of  eternal  death. 

Oh,  its  wages  !  its  wages  !  a  reward  appropriate  and 
well  earned  and  promised.  It  was  written  out  in  the 
dread  bond  in  characters  of  blood,  that  the  service  should 
be  a  slavery  and  the  wages  snould  be  death.  And  now, 
wirh  no  limits  for  further  enlargement,  tell  me  if  it  does 
not  seem  to  you  the  very  mightiest  of  marvels  that  an 
immortal  man  will  bind  himself  to  the  ignominy  of 
such  a  work  for  the  agony  of  such  a  wages.  And  tell 
me,  if  when  the  offer  comes  of  deliverance  from  those 
dread  indentures,  to  all  the  joy  and  the  goodness  of  a 
free  and  filial  obedience  ;  when  we  contrast  to  all  this 
wild  work  and  wild  Avages  there  is  mention  made  of  a 


THE   IVA  GES  OF  SIN.  27 

free  gift  of  a  life  eternal  ;  when  the  poor,  overburdened 
hireling  is  urged  to  fling  his  fearful  bondage  off,  and 
leap  to  the  liberty  of  a  gladsome  sonship ;  when  he  is 
assured  of  the  burden  he  is  to  lift  and  the  yoke  he  is 
to  bear — "  That  the  yoke  is  easy  and  the  burden  is 
light ;"  that,  even  while  his  labor  is  in  this  far  away 
province,  he  shall  have  foretastes  of  heaven's  own  glad- 
ness ;  and  his  food  shall  be  a  rained  manna,  and  his 
drink  a  w^ater  from  the  dry  rock,  and  his  raiment  of  the 
very  texture  they  wear  up  in  heaven,  and  his  lodgment 
in  chambers  habited  by  seraphim  ;  and  that  when  the 
glad  hour  of  recall  shall  come,  he  shall  go  up  to 
final  possession  of  glorious  things,  and  to  enter  upon 
the  lordship  of  an  estate  surpassing  all  his  dreams  of 
heavenly  splendor,  and  increasing  ever  as  eternity  rolls 
aw^ay  in  the  greatness  of  its  revenues  and  the  grandeur 
of  its  enjoyment.  When  of  such  things  the  Godlike 
offer  is  made,  and  the  poor  soul  instructed  with  all  a 
father's  tenderness  to  lay  hold  on  the  free  gift,  tell 
me !  I  say,  oh,  tell  me  !  if  it  be  not  of  all  marvels  the 
very  mightiest  marvel,  that  he  will  still  cling  madly  to 
the  conditions  of  that  foulest  bondage,  and  bow  himself 
to  all  the  burden  of  that  intolerable  labor,  and  keep  his 
food  still  burning  ashes,  and  his  drink  poisons,  and  his 
raiment  a  winding  sheet,  and  his  lodging-place  a  death- 
bed ;  and  every  dime  he  can  earn  above  the  amount  of 
these  fiendish  rations  goes  to  pay,  throughout  all  those 
uncounted  quarter-days  of  eternity,  his  fiery  instalment 
in  that  death  lease  of  hell.  Strange  !  isn't  it  ?  Painful ! 
isn't  it  ?  Wonder  of  wonders !  mighty  marvel'  of 
mighty  marvels !  isn't  it  ?  isn't  it  ?     Who  would  be  a 


28  THE   WAGES  OF  SIN. 

slave  to  such  bondage  when  the  whole  world  is  rousing 
to  cast  off  its  fetters. 

Oh,  beloved  hearers  out  of  Christ,  ye  who  will  not 
have  the  freedom  of  children,  ye  who  will  bow  to  this 
tremendous  bondage,  read  me  the  dread  riddle,  solve  me 
the  everlasting  problem !  Why  fear  ye  the  world  of  light, 
with  its  streets  of  gold  and  its  thrones  of  glory?  Why 
love  ye  the  realms  of  death,  with  the  quenchless  fires 
and  the  endless  torments?  W^hat  terrible  thing  have 
ye  seen,  or  read  of,  or  heard  of,  in  heaven,  that  ye  flee 
from  its  magnificent  abodes  as  from  the  haunted  dens  of 
demons?  What  glorious  and  graceful  thing  is  there 
down  in  hell,  that,  as  if  enamored  of  despair,  ye  will 
break  away  from  every  tie,  and  leap  every  barrier,  and 
force  your  fiery  way  against  every  obstacle  God's  love 
can  erect ;  yea,  in  the  very  face  of  God's  burning  fires 
that  flash  out  from  those  dread  battlements,  will  yet  scale 
them  in  the  hardihood  of  gigantic  demons,  hurrying,  as 
if  to  the  gladness  of  voluptuous  bridals,  to  the  everlast- 
ing embrace  of  that  awful  thing,  death  ! 

When  heaven  is  opeii,  why,  tell  me  why  ye  will  work 
for  a  master  who  will  lash  you  to  your  task  with  scor- 
pions, and  feed  you  on  poisons,  and  cloth  you  in  sackcloth, 
and  lodge  you  in  Hell. 


DEATH  FORETOLD. 


"  This  year  thou  shalt  die.'" — JEREMIAH  xxviil.  i6. 

These  words,  you  will  remember,  are  the  words  of 
Jeremiah,  the  true  prophet,  unto  Hananiah,  the  false 
prophet,  wdio  had  dared  to  dispute  his  Divinely  inspired 
threatenings  unto  Judah  and  Jerusalem. 

Jeremiah  had  been  dissuading  the  king  of  Judah 
from  joining  a  confederacy  against  the  king  of  Babylon, 
declaring  that  God  had  decreed  their  subjection  for  long 
years  to  the  Babylonish  empire,  and  that  it  was  their  wis- 
dom patiently  to  submit.  But  Hananiah  denied  the 
truth  of  this  prediction,  and  confidently  prophesied  on 
the  contrary,  that  within  two  years  Babylon's  power 
over  the  nations  should  be  broken,  and  the  captives  of 
Judah  and  Jerusalem  be  restored  in  gladness  to  the  land 
of  their  fathers.  Whereupon  Jeremiah  reiterates  more 
impressively  the  Divine  threatenings  of  seventy  years 
of  severe  captivity,  and  unto  Hananiah  himself,  as  a 
punishment  for  false  prophecy,  predicts  speedy  destruc- 
tion, saying,  ''  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  behold  I  will  cast 
thee  from  oif  the  face  of  the  earth.  This  year  thou 
shalt  die,  because  thou  hast  taught  rebellion  against  the 
Lord." 

Had  we  the  limits,  there  is  much  in  this  historic  event 
we  should  like  to  discourse  upon.  We  know  of  nothing 
in  all  Scripture  more  terrible  to  those  preachers  of  so- 
called  liberal  Christianty,  who  either  deny  or  explain 


30  DEA  Til  FORE  TOLD. 

away  God's  awful  tlireatenings  to  the  children  of  men, 
preaching  only  of  encouragement,  promises,  privileges, 
without  earnest  exhortation  and  warning  to  escape  from 
that  wrath  of  God  proclaimed  in  the  Scriptures.  Jere- 
miah's answer  on  this  occasion  is  exceedingly  instruc- 
tive. 

He  first  expresses  heartily  his  wish  that  Hananiah's 
words  may  prove  true.  Nor  was  this  the  first  time  that 
he  had  uttered  a  like  wish  and  prayer,  that  God  would 
not  accomplish  His  own  threatened  purpose  of  judgment 
upon  His  rebellious  people.  To  Hananiah's  false  words, 
that  within  two  years  God  would  restore  the  captivity, 
Jeremiah's  hearty  response  was,  "J.7/ie7i.^  The  Lord  do 
so.  The  Lord  2:>erforrii  the  words  ivhich  thou  hast 
^yrophesiedy 

And  in  all  tliis  is  Jeremiah  the  true  preacher's  pat- 
tern, fully  exemplifying  the  feelings  of  every  faithful 
servant  of  God  who  announces  Divine  threatenings,  and 
who,  when  these  men  preach  the  doctrine  of  universal 
salvation,  cries  out  often  in  his  heart  of  hearts,  "Would 
God  it  could  be  so!  would  God  it  might  be  consis- 
tent with  the  Divine  glory  that  all  men  should  be 
saved!"  He  has  no  sort  of  delight  in  those  images  of 
wrath  and  tribulation  and  anguish  with  which  he  strives 
to  win  men  from  their  iniquities.  And  if  he  could  find 
this  liberal  Christianity  in  the  Bible;  if  he  did  not  there 
learn  that  to  save  u  sinner  without  repentance  and  faith 
would  be  to  dishonor  all  the  Divine  attributes,  and  so 
virtually  to  dethrone  God  in  the  face  of  the  universe; 
if  he  did  not  find  a  dread  and  an  everlasting  destruction 
plainly  revealed  as  a  punishment  of  impenitents  on 
every  page  of  these  heavenly  oracles,  oh  then  with  what 


DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD.  31 

a  bounding  heart  he  would  proclaim,  not  merely  free 
grace,  but  universal  salvation  to  the  children  of  men ! 
But  so  long  as  there  is  no  such  doctrine  taught  in  the 
Bible ;  so  long  as  there  is  not  a  solitary  passage  that  to 
an  honest  and  open  mind  can  seem  to  teach  such  a  doc- 
trine; so  long  as  such  a  doctrine  is  opposed  to  all  we 
know  of  God's  dealings  with  His  creatures  in  creation  and 
providence;  yea,  so  long  as  such  a  doctrine  is  annihila- 
tion of  all  distinctions  between  right  and  wrong,  and  so 
an  impeachment  of  every  one  of  God's  glorious  attri- 
butes, he  would  no  more  dare  preach  it  than  he  would 
to  turn  heaven  into  hell  or,rock  God's  throne  into  ruins. 
For  he  knows  that  the  wrath  of  God  v/ill  be  poured  out 
in  most  full  and  fearful  measure  upon  those  false  pro- 
phets of  God,  who  dare  to  question  or  soften  down 
those  Divine  oracles  which  threaten  eternal  death  to  the 
unbelieving  and  impenitent.  And  while  unto  all  these 
encouraging  utterances  he  can  say  heartily,  as  Jeremiah, 
^'Amen!  The  Lord  do  so.  The  Lord  perform  the 
words  ivhich  thou  hast  prophesied,^  nevertheless,  w^ith 
Jeremiah,  as  well,  unto  the  false,  and  at  heart  infidel 
preacher  of  such  unscriptural  doctrines,  he  cries,  ^'Be- 
cause thou  maJcest  this  people  to  trust  in  a  lie,  God  shall 
cast  thee  from  off'  the  face  of  the  eai^th.^^  I  know  how 
these  men  love  to  vilify  an  orthodox  ministry,  as  those 
who  love  to  deal  damnation  round  the  land,  thus  claim- 
ing for  themselves  kinder  hearts  and  gentler  sympa- 
thies. 

But  judge  ye,  my  hearers,  of  the  reality  of  such 
claims.  Suppose  your  physician,  finding  you  under  the 
power  of  a  terrible  disease,  instead  of  administering  the 
indicated  and  powerful  medicine,  should  give  you  some 


32  DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD. 

sweet  and  costly,  yet  inefficient  draught,  saying  his 
heart  was  too  tender  to  force  upon  your  lips  the  bitter 
potion;  or,  suppose  a  watchman,  seeing  your  house 
enveloped  in  midnight  flames,  and,  rushing  to  your 
chamber,  and  finding  you  calmly  slumbering,  should 
leave  you  unroused,  retiring  with  noiseless  footsteps,  and 
say,  "  Oh,  he  was  sleeping  so  sweetly,  I  had  not  the 
heart  to  disturb  him,'^  then  what  would  \X\^  world  call 
these  men?  Gentle  and  kind-hearted  and  loving?  Oh, 
no !  no !  no  !  But  murderers  !  murderers  !  And  so 
will  the  universe  jndge  at  last  of  every  man,  who  from 
such  a  Bible  dares  to  preach  the  doctrine  of  universal 
salvation.  God  deliver  me  from  their  guilt.  I  would 
rather  go  to  the  Judgment  with  the  guilt  of  ten  thou- 
sand murdered  bodies  than  of  one  immortal  soul.  And 
so,  had  I  the  power  to  bring  the  ocean  over  this  broad 
continent,  and  whelm  all  its  living  family  in  one  de- 
stroying deluge,  I  would  rather  go  to  the  Judgment 
from  the  commission  of  such  a  crime  than  from 
having  persuaded  any  living  man  to  believe  that  if  he 
did  not  repent  and  believe  he  would  not  certainly  be 
damned.  Oh,  no  !  no  !  We  have  no  sympathy  nor 
fellowship  with  such  men.  We  recoil  from  them  as 
malignant  demons.  We  cry  in  their  ears  ever  and  only, 
"  Becaitse  thou  maJcest  the  people  to  trust  in  a  lie,  God 
shall  cast  thee  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Passing  this  and  other  instructive  lessons  of  the  his- 
tory, let  us  separate  the  words  of  the  text  from  their 
connections,  and  ponder  them  as  addressed  to  ourselves 
on  this  New  Year's  Sabbath  morn.  ^'  This  year  thou 
shalt  dieJ^ 

Now,  I  need  not  pause  to  prove  to  you  that  this  very 


DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD.  .  35 

prophecy  will  prove  literally  true  to  some  who  hear  me 
this  morning.  Humanly  speaking,  it  is  absolutely  im- 
possible that  it  should  not  prove  true.  It  would  prove 
such  a  year  of  miracles  as  no  man  has  ever  witnessed 
since  earth  had  a  population,  and  as  no  man  will  witness 
till  the  millenial,  if  some  of  you  were  not  entering  upon 
the  last  year  of  your  being. 

During  the  past  year  men  have  died  in  our  midst,  to- 
whora  this  prophecy  seemed  on  the  last  New  Year's 
morning  precisely  as  it  seems  to  you  this  morning. 
There  w^as  a  little  child  sitting  in  one  of  these  seats,  just 
as  you,  my  dear  child,  sit  in  that  seat.  There  was  a 
youth  here,  with  a  smiling  fiice  and  in  bright  raiment,, 
just  as  this  dear  youth  is  here  this  morning.  There 
was  a  man,  in  strong  life  and  health,  in  the  full  tide  of 
worldly  business,  just  as  these  strong  men  to-day  in 
God's  sanctuary.  There  was  the  man  with  the  whitened 
locks,  just  as  these  gray  heads  are  to-day — our  crown  of 
glory.  And  when  we  spoke  about  this  year  as  the  last 
of  some  human  lives,  the  prophecy  fell  on  their  ears  as 
on  yours  to-day ;  and  perhaps  they  scarcely  pressed  the 
thought  home  to  their  own  spirits,  that  to  them  was  the 
message.  And  yet  the  prophecy  is  fulfilled.  The 
sweet  child,  the  fine  youth,  the  strong  man,  the  beloved 
father,  have  gone  from  these  familiar  places  to  the  great 
realities  of  eternity. 

And  so  it  will  be  the  present  year.  Some  of  these 
dear  children,  some  of  these  fine  youths,  some  of  these 
men  of  business,  some  of  these  aged  fathers,  w^ill  be  gone 
forever  when  this  year  is  closed.  To  be  sure,  we  da 
not  know  who  they  are;  and  w^e  thank  God  we  do  not. 
If  there  is  anything  about  the  future  of  this  life  for 


34  -  DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD, 

which  our  hearts  swell  iu  gratitude,  it  is  that  we  know 
not  with  whom  we  are  to  part  in  these  several  years. 

But,  then,  of  this  ignorance  what  is  the  practical  ex- 
hortation? That  we  shall  all  be  careless  because  we 
know  not  who  shall  die?  Do  men  reason  so  in  other 
things?  There  are  a  hundred  prizes,  and  ten  thousand 
blanks  in  a  lottery,  and  yet  every  holder  of  a  ticket  ex- 
pects one  of  the  prizes.  In  everything  else  but  in  this 
matter  of  death  men  prepare  for  a  thing  that  may  hap- 
pen, as  if  it  would  happen ;  and  surely  in  a  matter  so 
momentous,  so  overwhelming  in  its  solemnity  and  im- 
portance, this  rule  of  common  prudence  should  be  the 
great  law  of  our  action. 

Some  of  us  will  die  this  year;  and,  therefore,  any  one 
of  us  may  die  this  year.  And  so  the  truth  should  come 
home  to  each  one  of  us  with  precisely  the  force  of  a 
direct  revelation  from  heaven.  ^'  This  year  thou  shalt 
die:' 

Now,  my  hearers,  we  want  to  bring  this  simple  truth 
home  to  your  heart§. to-day,  personally  and  practically. 
And  the  practical  lessons  of  the  text  will  be  set  forth, 
if  we  consider  personally  and  honestly  what  our  indi- 
vidual feelings  should,  and  indeed  surely  would  be,  if 
God  should  say  to  you  and  to  me,  ''  This  year  thou  shalt 
die.''  Surely  in  that  case  we  should  look  upon  the 
things  of  this  world  and  of  the  future  world  in  different 
aspects  and  attitudes.  This  world  would  look  differ- 
ently, not  that  such  a  thought  would  make  a  man  any 
the  less  diligent  in  business.  I  do  not  suppose  there  is 
a  business  man  here  to-day  who  could  wind  up  satisfac- 
torally  his  business  in  the  course  of  a  twelve-month; 
and  if  assured  that  he  was  to  die  in  a  twelve-month. 


DBA  TH  FORE  TOLD.  35 

he  would  go  on  more  earnestly  than  ever  settling  his 
accounts,  making  his  will,  investing  his  property,  ad- 
justing all  his  earthly  business,  so  that  his  children  or  his 
_heirs  might  be  the  most  benefited  by  his  love,  his  labor. 
Neither  living  religion  nor  dying  religion  would  detract 
one  iota  from  a  true  diligence  in  business  in  the  service 
of  God.  Nevertheless,  even  the  property  of  this  world, 
which  is  the  grand  object  of  business,  would  seem  a  dif- 
ferent thing,  if  the  man  knew  that  ihi%  year  lie  should 
die. 

Suppose  the  man  possesses  a  round  million,  yet,  after 
all,  what  is  he  worth  ?  AYhat  is  his  property?  Simply 
the  use  of  that  million  for  a  few  months.  His  house, 
his  equipage,  his  furniture,  his  bank  stock,  his  grand 
store-house,  his  ships  on  the  sea,  of  all  these  he  owns 
possibly  nothing,  save  their  use  for  a  twelve-month. 
And  when  that  brief  lease  expires,  every  one  of  them  is 
torn  from  him,  as  from  the  veriest  bankrupt  and  beggar. 
And  the  very  shroud  that  wraps  him,  and  the  grave 
that  receives  him,  is  from  the  charity  of  others.  .Surely 
the  gold  and  the  silver  of  the  world  would  seem  different 
to  us  all  if  we  believed  in  th«  prophecy,  '^  This  year 
thou  shall  die .'" 

And  so  of  the  pleasures  of  the  world.  We  certainly 
are  not  of  those  who  decry  these  pleasures.  We  thank 
God  that  He  gives  them  to  His  children,  and  they  should 
be  received  joyfully  with  thanksgiving;  nor  would  there 
be,  even  in  a  thought  of  coming  death,  anything  dimin- 
ishing one  true  pleasure  to  a  real  believer.  I  stand  here 
this  morning  talking  about  death ;  and  yet  I  stand  here 
to  join  humbly  in  all  the  well-wishes  and  felicitations 
of  the  season.     I  say  from  my  heart,  A  happy,  happy 


36  DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD. 

New  Year  to  every  one  of  you.  "  This  Gospel  is  glad 
tidings,  glad  tidings  of  great  joy/'  God  would  frown 
upon  me  if  I  did  not  bid  you  go  forth  to  the  good  things 
God  gives  you  with  thankfulness  and  gladness ;  never- 
theless these  pleasures  should  look  to  you  as  to  men  who 
may  die  this  year 

Surely  there  are  some  places  of  fashionable  amuse- 
ment which  a  man  w^ould  not  visit  in  the  last  year  of 
his  life.  I  know  not  when  I  have  been  more  pained 
than  by  a  report  of  a  late  lecture  delivered  by  a  learned 
and  most  honored  jurist  of  our  State,  upon  the  manage- 
ment of  theatres.  I  suppose  you  have  all  read  it,  and  I 
warn  you  against  its  insidious  principles  of  evil.  His 
argument  is,  that  the  stage  has  a  mighty  power  to  stir 
up  the  noblest  principles  of  our  nature ;  that  so  it 
might  be  assumed  to  be  a  school  of  virtue,  and  should 
as  such  have  the  counsel  and  countenance  of  the  relig- 
ious community.  Now,  we  have  no  limits  here  for  an 
argument.  One  statement  of  facts  forever  overthrows 
this  all-time  and  ignorant  plea  for  theatre- virtue.  And 
this  fact  is,  that  in  all  our  great  cities  the  trial  has 
been  made  of  conducting  theatres  without  the  very 
foolish  accessories  of  vice,  and  in  every  case  it  has 
proved  a  failure ;  and  so  theatre  managers  have  given 
the  thing  up,  and  the  whole  history  of  the  stage  is  at 
war  w4th  this  theory.  The  dramatic  art  took  its  birth 
in  tumultuous  pleasures  and  the  extravagances  of  intox- 
ication ;  and  to  these,  and  such  as  these,  it  has  always 
administered. 

The  Church  of  Christ  has  known  the  character  of 
theatres  for  eighteen  hundred  years.  It  has  seen  a  thou- 
sand efforts  made  to  reform  the  drama  to  a  school  of  morals. 


DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD.  37 

all  in  vain,  and  it  now,  everywhere,  with  united  voice, 
denounces  the  whole  thing  as  a  school  of  vice  and  impiety ; 
and  this  not  accidentally,  but  in  essence  and  element, 
vicious  and  vicious  only.  Yea,  it  denounces  all  attempts 
to  do  the  vf-ry  thing  this  lecture  proposes,  as  a  prac- 
tical infidelity.  And  it  would  as  soon  attempt  to  win 
money  by  racing  horses  for  the  support  of  the  Gospel, 
or  to  print  texts  of  Scripture  on  the  back  of  playing 
cards,  that  the  gamblers  might  have  matter  in  the  pauses 
of  the  play  for  fine  meditation,  as  to  talk  of  giving  a 
proper  and  moral  direction  to  any  form  of  the  theatre. 
All  this  by  the  way. 

But  sure  I  am  that  this  whole  class  of  pleasures,  of 
which  the  theatre  is  a  type,  would  loose  all  their  charms 
for  a  man  entering  the  last  year  of  his  being. 

By  common  consent  of  all  experienced  Christians, 
the  stage  has  been  given  up  to  the  emissaries  of  evil. 
And  although  Satan  Avith  his  wonderful  power  might, 
if  truly  regenerated  and  reformed,  become  a  most  effi- 
cient teacher  of  morals,  yet  as  for  six  thousand  years 
he  has  proved  himself  in  all  his  changes  still  a  devil, 
the  Church,  hopeless  of  his  reform,  will  use  other  min- 
istries, and  so  is  it  with  the  theatre.  It  is  a  foul  false- 
hood, the  whole  of  it.  Its  arrangements,  its  accessories, 
its  actors  and  acting  are  evil  only,  and  continually.  Its 
teachings  of  human  nature  are  vice  ennobling  caricature. 
Its  literature,  in  the  grand  mass,  is  impure,  profane,  pol- 
luting, coarse,  and  revolting  in  style  to  all  true  taste — 
sheerly  and  abominably  infidel  in  all  its  tendencies.  Even 
its  boasted  elocution,  as  exhibited  in  its  very  finest  actors, 
is  only  extravagant  affectation,  rant.  So  that  in  any 
of  the  practical  professions  of  life,  to  say  that  a  man 


38  DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD. 

reads  or  speaks  theatrically,  is  to  condemn  liini  in  the 
eyes  of  all  sensible  men  as  a  harlequin  and  a  fool. 

The  Avhole  thing  is  false  and  monstrous,  and  its 
only  purification  is  the  purification  of  the  Hebrew^s 
house  of  leprosy — breaking  the  whole  thing  down,  the 
stones  and  the  timber  and  the  mortar,  and  carrvinor 
them  all  out  of  the  city  into  an  unclean  place.  But  all 
this  by  the  way. 

Sure  I  am  that  of  all  pleasures  of  which  the  theatre 
is  a  type,  no  wise  man  would  be  enamored,  if  cer- 
tainly entering  in  the  last  year  of  his  being. 

Passing  all  this,  observe,  thirdly,  how  an  expectation 
of  so  speedy  a  death  would  aifect  the  practical  and  per- 
vading infidelity  of  the  world.  I  say  pervading,  for  it 
is  pervading.  I  have  no  sort  of  question  but  that  I 
speak  to-day  to  many  hearts  tinctured  with  an  unbelief 
of  the  great  truths  of  the  Gospel.  Perhaps  some  of 
you  have  drank  in  the  coarse  and  ribald  blasphemy  of 
Mr.  Paine  and  his  school  of  the  last  century.  And 
more  I  am  sure  from  the  popular  literature  of  the  day, 
wherein  personal  Christianity  is  ridiculed,  its  ministry 
derided,  its  solemn  truths  profaned  and  despised,  have 
come  to  regard  its  awful  threatenings  against  sin  as  at 
least  immense  exaggeration. 

Now,  sure  I  am  of  one  thing,  if  you  were  certain  you 
were  to  die  this  year,  you  would  sit  down,  at  least  hon- 
estly, to  examine  the  evidences  of  the  Bible's  truthful- 
ness. Granting  only  that,  however  improbable,  it  is  yet 
barely  possible  that  this  Bible  may  be  true,  you  would 
give  yourselves  to  its  study  as  of  all  things  most  impor- 
tant. 

The  sophism  that  it  matters  not  what  a  man  believes, 


DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD.  30 

if  he  be  honest  in  that  belief,  would  never  seem  to  you  a 
truth  in  the  last  year  of  your  being.  You  would  feel 
then,  that  if  immortality  and  retribution  be  realities,  your 
belief  or  unbelief  can  neither  modify  nor  destroy  them. 
You  would  perceive,  indeed,  that  sincerity  of  opinion 
may  be  worse  than  insincerity.  A  man  lifting  a  poison 
cup  to  his  lips,  if  he  sincerely  believes  it  to  be  harmless, 
Avill  drink  it  and  die.  If  he  be  not  honest  in  that  belief,  he 
will  put  it  away,  and  his  very  insincerity  and  dishonesty 
save  him.  The  question  about  eternity  is  not  what  you 
believe,  but  what  God  has  revealed.  This  Bible,  in  vrords 
as  explicit  as  language  can  afford,  speaks  of  a  Judgment 
Seat  and  an  eternal  retribution  unto  the  impenitent. 
And  the  only  question  for  man  to  answer  is  whether  or 
not  this  Bible  be  God's  AYord.  And  if  one  of  you,  I 
care  not  how  rooted  and  grounded  in  infidelity,  knew 
that  within  twelve  months  you  were  to  die,  sure  I  am, 
you  would  give  yourself  to  examine  its  evidences.  The 
indifference  would  die  in  the  heart,  and  the  sneer  vanish 
from  the  lips,  and  over  this  awful  Book  you  would  bend  as 
over  something  at  least  worthy  of  being  considered.  You 
would  say,  '•  Oh  !  Mr.  Paine  may  possibly  be  mistaken. 
These  sneering  liberals  may  possibly  be  mistaken. 
There  may  be  truth  in  this  volume.  There  may  be  a 
hell ;  there  may  be  a  dark  and  dreadful  eternity.  And, 
if  so,  Oh  !  they  are  too  near  to  be  forgotten  and  trifled 
with.  I  will  turn  aside  and  see  for  myself  what  this 
dread  Book  declareth.  Eternity  so  near,  oh  !  I  must 
know,  I  must  know,  what  amazing  realities  lie  just 
before  me.'^ 

Then  observe  again  how  this  apprehended    nearnes 
of  death  would   make  time  seem  precious  !     It   would, 


40  DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD. 

indeed,  in  some  common  aspect,  diminish  time's  value, 
because  it  would  surely  diminish  greatly  the  value  of 
things  earthly  and  temporal.  To- day  the  philosophic 
mind  moralizes  upon  the  vast  influences,  political,  social, 
national,  of  the  year  that  lias  just  departed.  Alike. of 
the  pulpit  and  the  press,  this  is  the  usual  burden  of  a 
]S^ew  Year's  homily. 

Our  favorite  journals  all  expatiate  upon  the  great  and 
general  prosperity  of  the  nations  of  the  earth,  the  re- 
establishment  of  peace  in  Europe,  the  return  of  the  three 
great  powers  that  were  wasting  blood  and  treasure  in 
this  struggle,  to  the  development  of  their  industrial 
resources  and  the  safer  policy  of  peace  and  trade.  The 
unprecedented  and  fabulous  prosperity  of  our  own  land, 
our  freedom  from  war  and  pestilence,  our  thriving 
manufactures  and  abundant  harvests,  our  marvelous  in- 
crease of  commerce,  till  our  tonnage  surpasses  that  of 
Great  Britain ;  and  with  the  balance  of  trade  in  our 
favor,  the  world,  so  long  our  creditor,  is  our  debtor  at 
last.  Our  amazing  increase  of  population,  new  terri- 
tories peopled,  new  cities  founded  and  filled.  Our  arts, 
and  sciences,  and  literature,  and  all  elements  of  personal 
and  social  prosperity  increasing  with  unexampled  mani- 
festations throughout  all  our  borders.  Our  glorious  na- 
tional union,  stronger  than  it  ever  has  been  under  the 
very  beatings  of  the  storms  that  seemed  to  threaten  its 
dissolution.  These,  and  such  as  these,  are  the  themes 
whereon  philanthropic  and  philosophic  thought  to-day 
expatiates. 

And  all  tliis  is  well.  AVe  ought  to  know  our  own 
mercies,  to  reco2:nize  and  acknowledcje  our  p^reat  and 
matchless   prerogative   as   American    freemen   in   this 


DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD.  41 

Nineteenth  Century.  Nevertheless,  to  a  man  certain 
that  he  was  entering  upon  the  last  year  of  his 
being,  such  temporal  interests  as  these  would  seem 
trivial  and  irrelevant.  Tell  such  a  man  that  time  is 
making  wars  to  cease,  establishing  the  prosperous  arts 
of  peace,  strengthening  great  nations,  building  great 
cities,  and  he  would  say,  "  Oh,  this  concerns  me  little. 
I  am  a  dying  man.  Time  to  me  is  probation.  Its 
gigantic  interest  and  importance  is  in  the  impress  it  is 
stamping  on  my  o^\n  personal  character,  the  influence  it 
is  exerting  on  my  eternal  destiny.  Every  moment,  as 
it  contains  within  itself  the  germ  of  immortal  realities, 
hath  to  me  the  unutterable  value  of  a  positive  eternity. 
And  now  my  days  are  waning  to  their  final  numbering. 
This  year  I  must  die.  Every  day-spring  and  eventide 
is  the  vanishing  of  another  life-watch  to  the  condemned 
prisoner  in  his  dungeon.  These  hours  are  seasons  of 
preparation  for  immortality.  Tell  me  not  of  earth's 
civil  and  national  interests.  Time  is  too  precious  for 
all  save  eternal  interests.  Financial  and  commercial 
prosperity !  Go  talk  of  such  things  to  men  who  will 
live  half  a  century ;  but  for  me,  tell  me  of  the  interests 
that  survive  death  and  reach  beyond  the  sepulchre.'^ 

Oh!  no  wonder  God  measures  these  mortal  hours 
with  such  magnificent  machinery  of  time-keeping.  One 
of  those  probationary  days  seems  too  precious  to  waste 
even  in  the  foundation  of  a  great  city  or  the  conquest 
of  a  mighty  kingdom.  Oh  time!  time!  time!  how 
unspeakable  its  value,  as  held  in  distinct  outline  of  re- 
lief against  the  background  of  a  coming  and  impend- 
ing eternity. 

Standing  here,  in  the  beginning  of  the  last  year  of 


42  DEATH  FORETOLD. 

my  life,  all  those  mightv  movements  of  the  past,  its 
chaDging  dynasties,  its  rocking  thrones,  its  rising,  falling 
empires,  would  seem  to  me  only  as  the  shifting  of  the 
painted  scenery  of  an  evening  theatre,  whereon  mimic 
kings  and  conquerors  acted  a  rapid  part  in  a  vain  and 
vanishing  drama.  Nor  Avould  this  appreciation  of  time 
be  merely  meditation  and  sentimental.  A  sense  of  its 
amazing  personal  importance  would  excite  every"  one  of 
us  to  its  personal  improvement.  A  consciousness  of  our 
past  remissness  in  the  grave  work  of  preparation  for 
death  would  quicken  us  unto  diligence  in  all  spiritual 
activity. 

Ah  !  my  Christian  brother,  what  a  life  you  would 
lead  if  you  were  assured  from  God  that  this  year  was  to 
end  it.  ^hat  a  father,  what  a  husband,  what  a  friend 
you  would  be  henceforth  to  the  end  of  your  pilgrimage. 
You  Avould  never  again  utter  an  unkind  word,  nor  give 
way  to  a  simple  or  unseemly  passion,  but  live,  the  rather, 
every  fleeting  hour  so  that  hearts  breaking  in  love  would 
gather  to  your  death-bed,  and  tears  of  agonizing  bereave- 
ment fall,  like  rain,  upon  your  grave.  How  a  sense  of 
the  nearness  of  death  would  modify  life  in  its  activities, 
and  life  in  its  aspects!  How  it  would  moderate  our 
joys!  Not,  indeed,  destroy  them.  Oh,  no!  God  hath 
not  colored  the  skies  drab,  nor  clothed  the  earth  in  sable. 
He  means  us  to  be  happy,  but  with  an  intelligent  hap- 
piness, a  happiness  springing  mainly  from  the  grand  real- 
ities of  a  hastening  eternity.  From  purely  temporal 
joys  a  sense  of  impending  deatli  would  dissolve  much 
of  the  seeming  reality.  The  man's  princely  house,  his 
glittering  equipage,  his  grand  wareliouses,  his  golden 
cups   of  banqueting,   ah!     they   would    seem    unreal, 


DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD.  43 

spectral,  phantom-like  things,  wrought  out  of  cloud  and 
vapor,  vanishing,  dissolving,  if  he  knew  that  in  a  few 
months  they  were  to  pass  away  forever. 

How  this  thought,  too,  would  mitigate  his  sorrow^s  ; 
not  that  he  ought  not  to  feel  them ;  the  stoicism  of  a  tear- 
less philosophy  is  simply  brutal.  God  tunes  all  the 
tender  chords  of  the  immortal  heart  to  vibrate  like  an 
^olian.  Weep  as  over  your  sorrows,  for  the  Saviour 
wept.  But,  then,  how  unworthy  these  deep  agonies  of 
spirit  would  seem  life's  common  griefs,  if  he  were  to  die 
in  a  six-month.  Poverty,  friendlessness,  disappoint- 
ments, sickness,  pain,  oh  !  they  would  seem  but  as  the 
unreal  incubi  of  a  half-conscious  dream,  the  dreamer 
feeling  the  while.  Ah !  these  are  but  phantom-fancies, 
and  w^ill  fade  when  the  morning  light  rouses  me  to 
wakefulness.  How  it  would  quicken  us  in  the  moment- 
ous duties  of  spiritual  and  probationary  life. 

Take  the  weakest  and  worldliest  Christian  among  u^,. 
and  a  prophecy  from  God  that  this  year  he  should  die 
would  be  as  an  archangel's  trump  to  his  slumbering 
piety.  How  that  neglected  and  abused  Bible  would  be 
taken  from  its  forgotten  place,  and  its  covers  freed  from 
dust,  and  its  pages  blotted  Avith  tears.  How  real  now 
the  description  of  Judgment  and  heaven.  How  the  fire 
would  be  kindled  again  on  that  deserted  family  altar, 
and  the  beloved  household  gathered  to  join  in  the 
prayers  of  one  so  appointed  to  death.  How  the  man's 
place  in  the  prayer- meeting,  so  long  unoccupied,  would 
be  filled  when  God's  people  come  together  to  pray. 
How  the  man's  duty  to  his  own  soul  would  be  per- 
formed earnestly  and  instantly.  Oh  !  he  would  say,  "  I 
have  been  cheating  myself  long  enough  with  these  earthly 


44  DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD. 

phantoms  ;  and  now  for  eternity  !  Life  is  probation  ;  I 
must  win  treasures  in  heaven.  Out  of  my  path ;  I  am 
running  a  race.  Give  me  sword  and  shield ;  I  am 
fighting  a  battle."  How  he  would  be  active,  too,  in  the 
service  of  others.  Every  breath  would  seem  the  knell 
of  a  departing  soul ;  only  a  few  months  to  labor  for  a 
world  for  whicl>  Christ  died  !  How  he  would  labor  for 
God  and  for  Christ,  so  near  eternity  and  so  little  done 
for  the  Heavenly  Father,  the  great  and  gracious  Saviour. 
Oh !  he  would  cry,  "  I  am  going  to  the  glories  of 
heaven.  I  am  going  to  see  the  flaming  seraphims  in 
their  labors  for  Jehovah.  I  am  going  to  see  the  glorious 
crowns  which  Abraham  and  David  and  John  and  Paul 
cast  in  adoring  worship  at  the  feet  of  my  Redeemer. 
And  I  must,  ere  I  depart,  do  something  for  my  Master. 
Ah  !  methinks  it  would  fall  as  a  truth  fearfully 
€xhortatory  on  every  Christian  heart — /  am  to  die  this 
'year.  How  much  of  life  has  been  wasted.  How  little 
advance  have  I  made  in  the  Divine  life.  How  small 
the  treasure  laid  up  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Alas ! 
I  am  a  husbandman,  and  my  work  is  not  done.  The 
bending  harvest  is  not  reaped.  The  fruitful  clusters  are 
not  gathered ;  and  now,  with  chilly  dews  and  lengthen- 
ing shadows,  the  night  cometh  !  the  night  conieth  !  where- 
in no  man  can  work.  Meanwhile,  unto  the  earnest  and 
active  Christian,  how  consoling  would  be  the  thought  of 
the  hastening  immortality.  Alas  for  the  feeble  faith 
of  modern  piety,  that  death  in  its  simple  release  from 
earthly  trial  should  seem  a  thing  so  dreadful  ! 

Suppose  we  actually  saw  heaven,  could  look  up  from 
these  mortal  scenes  upon  the  revealed  glories  of  the 
dwelling:s  of  the  blest  in  the  City  of  Holiness.     Would 


DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD.  45 

not  the  coldest  heart  burn,  as  Paul's,  to  depart  and  be 
with  Jesus  ?  And  yet,  would  that  sight  render  the  bliss 
of  heaven  more  certain  to  the  Christian  ?  Oh,  no !  no  ! 
I  have  better  evidence  of  an  immediate  and  enraptured 
immortality  to  the  redeemed  soul,  than  if  I  could  see 
in  all  their  lustrous  substantiality,  those  gates  of  pearl, 
those  mansions  of  righteousness.  For  I  have  God's 
steadfast  assurance  of  such  things,  and  though  my 
senses  might  deceive  me,  yet  God's  truth  can  not  deceive 
me.  As  I  saw  the  city,  with  its  glorious  gates,  I  should 
cry.  Oh,  it  is  too  resplendent  for  a  reality.  It  is,  it  must 
be  a  fair  and  vanishing  phantasm.  But  when  the  eternal 
Jehovah  tells  me  of  the  city,  I  know  it  is  a  radiant  and 
eternal  substantiality.  I  know  that  the  beloved  dead, 
who  began  tlie  last  year  with  us,  are  there  in  heavenly 
rapture,  better  than  if,  with  their  familiar  faces  and 
tones  of  love,  they  passed  before  me  in  visions  of  immor- 
tal glory.  And  to  a  Christian  with  an  Apostolic  faith, 
oh  how  sweet  would  be  tlie  prophecy,  "  This  year^  this 
year  thou  shaft  be  with  them  in  Paradise  V^  Oh !  my 
tears  are  almost  shed,  my  warfare  almost  over.  This 
poor  heart  will  break  no  more.  This  poor  soul  will  sin 
no  more.  I  can  catch  them  already — the  flash  of  the 
crown  gems,  the  swell  of  the  hallelujahs.  Oh  !  let  the 
Heavens  open ;  let  the  fire-car  descend.  I  am  athirst 
for  the  living  water.  I  am  home-sick  for  glory* 
"  Come,  Lord  Jesus  ;  come  quickly ."' 

But,  then,  alas!  we  have  not  all  this  Apostolic  faith. 
And  to  all  without  it  how  exhortatory  this  prophecy. 
There  are  some  here  who  hope  they  are  Christians,  who 
have  yet  never  professed  Christ  before  men. 

Now,  beloved,  I  stop  not  here  to  argue  again  your 


46  DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD. 

duty  in  this  matter ;  but  I  ask  you,  if  you  knew  that 
the  next  few  months  would  summon  you  to  the  presence 
of  your  Saviour,  whether  you  would  not  be  constrained 
to  come  with  us  on  the  next  Sabbath  to  our  blessed  com- 
munion. Believe  me,  this  shrinking  from  the  sacra- 
ments, whatever  excuses  you  plead,  springs  essentially 
from  shame  of  the  Saviour.  Even  if  the  feeling  at  your 
lieart  is  a  sense  of  unworthiness,  yet  this  very  feeling 
results  from  a  pride  of  heart  w^hich  is  ashamed  to  be 
saved  freely,  as  a  poor,  lost  sinner.  And  if  you  were 
assured  that  before  this  table  shall  be  spread  again  you 
would  be  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  risen  and 
reigning  Redeemer,  then  sure  I  am,  you  could  not  be 
kept  back  from  these  memorials  of  His  humiliation. 
You  would  cry,  "Oh!  I  am  so  soon  to  share  in  His 
glory,  I  must  share  at  least  once  in  His  humiliation. 
I  must  stand  by  the  Cross  with  the  Marys.  I  must  go 
to  the  grave  with  the  Disciples.  I  must,  I  must  do  this 
in  remembrance  of  my  Lord.''  Oh  come,  then,  be- 
lieving soul,  to  this  table  of  your  Master ! 

But  even  with  greater  force  than  unto  these  would 
come  these  exhortatory  words  to  you,  poor  impenitent 
unbelievers.  What  mean  ye,  oh  imperiled  souls?  To 
walk  on  this  crumbling  verge  of  time  all  unprepared 
for  eternity?  "Oh!''  you  say,  "but  I  do  not  expect  to 
die  this  year.''  Well,  suppose  you  do  not.  Even  this 
is  of  all  reasons  the  very  mightiest,  why  you  should 
repent  this  moment.  You  must  die  some  time;  and 
every  year  spent  in  sin  makes  the  dying  hour  dreadful. 
In  refusing  this  instant  call  of  the  Gospel,  you  say  to 
the  great  and  dreadful  God,  "I  want  to  live  another 
year  in  sin,  to  break  all  your  holy  laws,  to  stand  with 


JDEA  TH  FORE  TOLD.  47 

my  cruel  i^^i  upon  the  broken  heart  of  my  Redeemer, 
to  add  to  that  dire  and  appalling  accumulation  of  wrath 
against  the  day  of  wrath  of  God's  righteous  retribution.'' 
Ah !  better,  a  thousand  times  better,  that  you  should 
die  this  very  moment,  than  live  another  year  in  this 
ungrateful  rebellion. 

You  may  not  die  this  year,  and  this  is  the  overwhelm- 
ing reason  why  you  should  begin  now,  this  very 
moment,  to  turn  from  your  evil  courses  and  lay  up 
heavenly  treasures ! 

But,  then,  you  may  die  this  year.  And  this  very 
uncertainty  as  to  the  hour  of  Christ's  coming  is  God's 
argument  for  preparation.  Therefore  He  says,  "^e  ye 
ready  ;  for  ye  know  not  the  day  nor  the  hour  vjherein  the 
Son  of  Man  cometh^ 

Tell  that  householder  that  a  thief  lies  in  ambush  at 
his  door,  and  at  some  uncertain  moment  the  house  will 
be  broken  into,  and  you  drive  sleep  from  his  eyes  in 
armed  and  eager  watchfulness.  And  so  when  God  and 
your  own  conscience  tell  you,  This  year  you  may  die, 
you  are  moved  by  the  most  irresistible  argument  to 
watchfulness  and  preparation. 

But,  then,  as  any  of  you  may  die  this  year,  some  of 
you  will  die  this  year.  I  know  not  which  of  you  it  may 
be.  It  maybe  this  young  child;  it  maybe  this  fine 
youth;  it  may  be  this  strong  man;  it  may  le  you! 
you!  you!  And  you  surely  have  no  time  to  loiter. 
Condemned  already,  you  are  a  poor  prisoner  in  his 
dungeon,  av/aiting  in  the  last  hour  the  tread  of  the 
executioner.  Between  you  and  the  dread  realities  of 
eternity  there  are  only  these  poor  remnants  of  time. 
You  will  never  see  another  New  Year.     Oh,  how  short 


48  DEA  TH  FORE  TOLD. 

life  seems  to  you !  Time!  Time!  It  is,  to  you  at  least, 
surely,  but  a  hand's  breadth,  a  shadow,  a  vanishing 
vapor.  And  yet  on  this  poor,  fleeting  vapor  hangs  your 
immortal  destiny.  Alas!  how  near  death  stands  to 
you — his  very  breath  upon  your  brow,  his  cold  hand 
stretched  forth  to  be  laid  upon  your  heart-strings.  And 
eternity,  that  eternity  wherewith  you  trifle,  that  Judg- 
ment for  which  you  are  not  prepared,  that  hell  at  which 
you  smile  and  cavil,  oh,  how  near  they  all  are !  Their 
sounds  rise  around  you  ;  their  lurid  light  falls  full  upon 
you;  and  will  you  even  yet  refuse  your  pleading 
Saviour,  who  knocks  at  your  door,  entreating  that  He 
may  save  you  ?  Oh,  beloved !  believe  Him !  AYould  to 
God  I  had  power  to  plead  with  you  fittingly ! 

I  am  preaching  to  you  my  last  New  gear's  sermon. 
If  I  stand  here  another  twelve-month,  you  will  be  gone; 
and  I  can  not  bear  to  have  the  blood  of  a  soul  upon  my 
garments.  But  I  cannot  save  you.  I  can  only  cast  my- 
self at  your  feet,  and  in  earnest  love  pray  you,  in  Christ's 
stead,  Be  ye  reconciled  to  Jehovah  ;  and  I  do  pray  you, 
by  all  God's  tender  and  terrible  things,  by  that  death- 
bed already  spread  for  you,  by  that  grave  already  open- 
ing, by  that  great  white  throne  of  Judgment,  by  that 
unknown  and  boundless  and  terrible  eternity,  and  that 
abyss  which  yawns  at  your  very  feet,  its  shadows  around 
you,  its  tongues  of  fire  lapping  the  place  of  your  stand- 
ing, yea,  more,  more,  by  God's  long-suifering  mercies, 
by  the  heavenly  glories  whereunto  He  waits  to  usher 
you,  by  my  Saviour's  dying  love,  this  Cross,  this  crim- 
son Cross  of  your  smitten  Redeemer,  oh  come  now,  now, 
to  the  hope  set  before  you. 

It  seems  to  me  I  cannot  part  with  you  to-day,  im- 


BE  A  TH  FORE  TOLD.  4^ 

penitent.  If  you  go  from  God's  house  in  }^ur  sins,  the 
fearful  likelihood  is  you  will  perish  forever;  that  upon 
the  decision  you  make  this  holy  hour,  the  Divine 
hand  will  set  the  impress  of  eternity.  And  as  you 
choose  this  hour  you  choose  forever !  forever  I 


THE  GREAT  QUERY. 


"  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  T' — Acts  xvi.  30, 

My  brethren,  it  is  no  easy  task  to  preach  Christ  cru- 
cified. I  refer  not  to  the  constant  wearing  away  of  the 
physical  strength  under  the  excitement  of  such  frequent 
public  ministrations,  nor  to  the  exhaustion  of  mental 
toil  necessary  to  an  almost  daily  elaboration  of  pulpit 
discourse  by  a  mind  already  worn  out  and  wearied,  nor 
to  that  painful  reflection,  everywhere  and  always  present 
to  a  preacher's  thought,  that,  having  done  all  he  can,  few 
will  be  satisfied  and  many  displeased.  These,  indeed, 
with  other  kindred  perplexities,  are  enough  to  drive  the 
ardent  and  aspiring  from  the  ministry  into  easijer  and 
more  eligible  professions.  But  I  refer  specially  to  that 
deep  sense  of  unworthiness  and  insufficiency  which 
presses  with  mountain  weight  upon  every  servant  of  the 
Church  into  whose  heart  there  has  entered  at  all  the 
humble  spirit  of  his  Master.  To  storm  the  strongholds 
of  Satan  by  the  feeble  utterance  of  a  weak  and  wearied 
life — this  is  his  work ;  and  who  is  sufficient  for  these 
things.  And,  yet,  thanks  be  unto  God,  never  was  there 
a  perplexity,  temporal  or  spiritual,  which  met  not  its 
consolation  in  this  Book  of  God.  And  never  does  the 
humble  minister  of  Jesus  find  himself  overborne  by  the 
perplexity  to  which  we  have  adverted,  but  he  opens  his 
Bible ;  and  certain  are  we  that  if  his  eye  light  on  the 
16th  Chapter  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  he  will  go 


THE  GREAT  QUERY.  51 

away  comforted.  Xo where  else  in  the  whole  Bible  do  I 
gather  a  finer  illustration  of  the  truth,  that  though  in 
the  Avork  of*  regeneration  the  Spirit  of  God  operates 
mediately,  yet  that  the  mightiest  effects  are  not  unfre- 
quently  brought  about  by  means  the  most  feeble.  AVhat 
brought  the  proud  heathen  trembling  and  uncovered  to 
the  feet  of  Paul  ?  An  earthquake.  But  what  roused 
the  earthquake  in  its  awful  strength  ?  Why,  the  feeble 
voice  of  those  two  old  men  of  Galilee  as  they  sang 
praises  to  the  prison  walls  of  Philippi.  So  that  it  was 
the  simple  Psalm-singing  of  Paul  and  Silas  that  ex- 
torted the  agonizing  question  of  the  text — "  What  shall 
I  do  to  he  saved  f* 

We  surely  need  not  here  insist  upon  the  thought  that 
the  interpretation  of  that  sect  which  would  regard  this 
inquiry  as  having  reference  to  personal,  temporal  safety 
is  utterly  at  variance  with  the  context  and  common 
sense.  The  prison  doors  were,  indeed,  open,  but  not  one 
prisoner  had  escaped ;  and  had  they,  Paul  and  Silas 
were  not  counsellors  skillful  to  teach  how  to  escape  the 
penalty  of  heathen  laws.  Besides,  the  answer  of  Paul 
to  the  inquiry  settles  the  matter  at  once,  that  it  referred 
to  danger  far  other  and  mightier  than  that  incurred  by 
a  mere  want  of  prison  watchfulness. 

"  What  shall  I  do  to  he  saved  f  It  was  the  mighty 
cry  of  a  roused  soul,  started  by  the  rushing  of  the  earth- 
quake, feeling  within  itself  the  burden  of  unpardoned 
sin,  believing  that  the  world  was  dissolving;  that  it  stood 
on  the  very  verge  of  the  abyss  of  time,  and  that,  all 
ungirded  as  it  was,  was  about  to  be  driven  forth  to  the 
homeless  wanderings  of  eternity. 

"  What  shall  I  do  to  he  saved  f  Oh !  ye  beloved  out 


52  THE  GREAT  QUERY. 

of  Christ,  if  ye  could  look  upon  time  as  the  jailor  did; 
if  ye  could  look  at  yourselves  as  the  jailor  did;  if  ye 
could  look  far  on  into  eternity  as  the  jailor  did ;  if  ye 
could  look  at  yourselves  and  at  time  and  at  eternity  as 
ye  will  when  the  earthquake  of  death  shall  shake  down 
the  clay  prison  of  your  spirits,  like  him  of  Philippi,  ye 
would  be  smitten  to  the  dust  to-day  ;  and  now  and  here 
would  the  cry  of  agony  break  upon  the  ear,  "  What 
shall  I  do  to  he  saved  f^  ^'  What  shall  I  do  to  be 
saved  f 

Regarding  this  question  as  a  theme  for  our  considera- 
tion this  afternoon,  we  propose  dwelling  as  briefly  as 
may  be  upon  a  few  of  the  thoughts  suggested  by  it 
upon  even  its  most  rapid  perusal. 

First,  And  we  remark,  in  the  first  place,  that  the 
question  plainly  teaches  us  that  the  soul  of  every  man 
who  has  not  repented  and  exercised  faith  in  Christ  is 
now  actually,  though  not  indeed  irrecoverably,  in  a  lost 
state. 

Now,  my  hearers,.  I  am  aware  that  it  is  unfashionable 
and  unpopular  altogether  to  dwell  much  on  such  thoughts 
as  this,  and  if  you  will  assure  me  that  you  will  find  no 
fault  with  me,  and  that  God  will  find  no  fault  with  me 
when  the  dead  are  judged,  as  an  unfjiithful  steward  of 
the  mysteries  of  Christ,  for  so  doing,  I  will  never 
preach  the  doctrine  again  while  the  world  standeth.  If 
I  know  my  own  heart,  I  desire  not  only  your  welfare, 
but  your  well-wishes;  and  the  earthly  wish  nearest  my 
soul  to-day  is,  that  you  will  give  me  such  a  place  in  your 
sympathies  that  Avhen  my  work  is  done  and  my  heart 
lies  a  frozen  thing  in  the  grave,  you  will  remember  my 
weakness  forgivingly,  and  myself  with    a  tear.      But 


THE  GREAT  QUERY.  53 

whether  I  should  obey  God  rather  than  you,  judge  ye. 
So  long  as  God  gives  me  breath  to  speak  in  the  name  of 
Jesus,  and  tells  me  that  the  fiercest  torments  of  the 
damned  shall  gather  round  the  eternity  of  an  unfaith- 
ful embassador  of  heaven,  I  will  never  cease  to  proclaim 
as  a  grand  truth,  whose  conviction  is  absolutely  essen- 
tial to  salvation  through  faith,  that  the  soul  that  be- 
lieves not  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  just  as  verily, 
though,  mark  me,  not  as  hopelessly  lost  as  it  will  be 
amid  the  retributions  of  eternity.  This  is  apparent 
from  many  considerations.  From  manifold  declarations 
of  the  Bible,  "all  have  sinned  and  come  short  of  the 
glory  of  God."  "  Cursed  is  every  one  that  continueth 
not  in  all  things  that  are  written  in  the  Book  of  the 
Law,  to  do  them."  "What  things  soever  the  law  saith, 
it  saith  to  them  that  are  under  the  law,  that  every  mouth 
might  be  stopped  and  all  the  world  become  guilty  be- 
fore God."  "He  that  believeth  not  is  condemned  al- 
ready, because  he  hath  not  believed  on  the  Only  Begot- 
ten Son  of  God."  The  whole  testimony  of  Scripture 
is  at  one  on  this  point.  -  You  can  not  open  a  single  page 
from  which  the  great  truth  does  not  flash  out  startlingly 
unto  the  eye  of  the  soul,  that  w^ithout  the  operation  of 
some  mighty  influence  of  salvation,  we  as  a  race  are 
bound  unto  destruction.  Indeed,  the  very  existence  of 
the  Bible  as  a  revelation  of  redemption  through  the 
.shedding  of  blood  presupposes  this.  What  need  of  all 
this  machinery  of  salvation,  if  there  be  not  the  lost  to 
be  saved  ?  Why  fling  out  the  buoy  and  lower  the  life- 
boat, if  there  be  no  man  overboard,  lost  in  the  storm  ? 
The  Bible  proclaims  as  its  great  foundation  truth,  that 
all  men  are  sinners.     Experience  and  observation  prove 


54     '  THE  GREAT  QUERY. 

it;  and  the  only  way  of  avoiding  the  conclusion  that 
all  men  are  therefore  lost,  is  the  regarding  sin  as  in 
itself  too  insignificant  a  thing  to  involve  the  loss  of  the 
soul.     But  when,  I  pray  you,  has  man  learned  that  sin 
is  so  trifling  and  altogether  inconsiderable  an  influence? 
Did  philosophy  teach  him  that  rebellion  against  the 
great  God  of  heaven  is  so  inconsiderable  a  trifle?     Did 
lie  discover  by  any  process  of  metaphysical  analysis  that 
that  which  violates  infinite  obligations,  which  is  com- 
mitted against  a  Being  of  infinite  perfection,  w^hich  dis- 
turbs a  series  of  moral  dependencies  all  but  infinite,  is 
itself,  or  can  be  itself,  anything  less  than  an  infinite 
evil,   requiring   an    infinite    punishment?     Or,    if   not 
from  the  findings  of  philosophy,  has  he  learned  any 
such  lesson  from  the  observation  of  facts?     From  what 
instance  of  Divine  dealings  with  creatures  has  the  un- 
believer discovered  that  God  regards  as  an  insignificant 
evil  that  which  has  done  all   it  c5uld  to  shiver  into 
fragments  the  whole  machinery  of  His  moral  adminis- 
tration ?     Did  he  learn  it  from  the  fact,  that  as  a  result 
of  a  simple  sin  a   third  part  of  the  host  of  heaven 
came  down  from  their  burning  thrones,  and,  girt  about 
with  sackcloth  of  hair,  with  the  fire  on  the  brain  and 
the  iron  on  the  bosom,  w^ent  forth  unto  the  flame-kind- 
ling, degraded  and  desolated  and  damned?      Did  he 
learn  it  by  the  entrance  of  a  lost  Eden,  where,  as  a  re- 
sult of  a  sii>gle  sin,  there  came  down  over  the  fair  world 
so  foul  an  eclipse,  that,  notwithstanding  all  the  restor- 
ing influences  of  faith  in  a  Saviour  to  come,  earth  in  its 
estrangement   from    heavenly   visitation   became   little 
lovelier  than  hell?     Did  he  learn  it  from  the  peak  of 
Mt.  Ararat,  as  he  looked  down  upon  the  earth,  hoary 


THE  GREAT  QUERY.  55 

with  the  yeast  of  the  subsiding  sea,  and  beheld  the 
riven  habitations,  and  the  rocked  cities  and  the  rotting 
carcasses  of  a  desolated  world  and  a  dead  race  ?  Did 
he  learn  it  from  the  high  place  whence  Abraham  looked 
toward  Sodom,  and  beheld,  and  lo!  from  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah  and  all  the  land  of  the  plain  the  smoke  of 
the  country  went  up  as  the  smoke  of  the  furnace?  Yea, 
my  brethren,  above  all,  think  you  he  learned  from  the 
Mount  of  the  sin-atoning,  where,  amid  opening  graves 
and  a  rocking  world  and  a  darkened  sun  and  shrouded 
heaven,  there  was  solved  in  the  death-agonies  of  God's 
own  Son,  the  mighty  problem  of  the  amount  of  sin's 
demerit  as  a  deranging  influence  in  the  universe  of  God  ? 
Verily,  my  brethren,  w^e  should  like  to  be  told  what  are 
the  elements  in  the  calculation,  whether  of  fact  or  of 
philosophy,  whereby  the  arithmeticians  of  modern  liber- 
alism have  computed  the  slightest  violation  of  the 
Divine  law  to  be  anything  less  than  an  infinite  evil. 
We  should  like  to  be  told  the  modus  of  the  problem- 
solving,  whereby  we  are  made  certain  that  the  abettor 
of  a  principle  of  rebellion  against  the  Div^ine  govern- 
ment; a  principle  that  hath  made  many  a  vacant  place 
in  the  ranks  above,  and  filled  w^ith  wailing  the  gloomy 
mansions  of  the  world  beneath;  a  principle  that  has 
gathered  over  our  world  the  dark  mantle  of  apostacy 
from  Jehovah,  and  transformed  it  from  a  star-hung 
cradle  of  immortal  being  into  a  foul  charnel  of  pining 
and  passionate  mortality;  a  principle  that,  grown  giant 
by  the  Divine  forbearance,  has  set  its  face  boldly  against 
heaven,  and  so  far  as  in  it  lay  torn  the  fabric  of  God's 
moral  government  all  to  pieces,  and  struggled  with 
might  and  main  to  rock  into  the  dust  the  very  throne 


56  THE  GREA  T  Q  UER  K 

whereon  Jehovah  sits ;  yea,  verily,  hath  reached  forth 
the  hand  of  its  mighty  daring,  and  with  the  ferocity  of 
incensed  devils,  in  the  face  of  a  beholding  heaven,  mur- 
dered God's  only  Son  ;  we  say  we  should  like  to  be  told 
the  method  of  the  calculation  whereby  we  are  made 
confident  that  the  abettor  of  such  a  principle  of  antagon- 
ism to  Jehovah  is  anything  else  under  the  wide  heaven 
than  a  poor,  lost  outcast  in  the  universe  of  God. 
Brethren,  be  not  deceived  in  this  matter.  Beware  how 
you  give  yourselves  up  to  the  pleasing  plausibilities  of 
a  prevailing  and  popular  liberalism.  For,  know  you, 
as  there  is  a  God  above  you,  that  by  nature  ye  are  all 
children  of  wrath ;  that  ye  have  been  born  and  baptized 
and  bred  up  in  sin ;  that  by  the  penalties  of  a  law  never 
to  be  lessened  in  one  fraction  of  its  mighty  exactions  ye 
are  condemned  already ;  and,  therefore,  in  the  regards 
of  that  charity  that  thinketh  no  evil  and  hopeth  all 
things,  ye  are  to-day,  in  respect  of  eternity,  like  helmless 
voyagers  on  the  open  sea — lost !  lost  !  lost ! 

Secondly.  Now,  this  leads  me  to  remark,  in  the  second 
place,  that  this  question  of  the  jailor  plainly  teaches  that 
man  thus  lost  must  himself  do  something  to  secure  his 
salvation.     "  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  f^ 

We  do  not  regard  it  necessary  to  dwell  for  a  moment 
upon  the  implied  truth  that  salvation  is  possible  unto 
man.  This  is  a  truth  absolutely  fundamental  to  the 
Christian  scheme,  that  those  liberalists  who  find  fault 
with  our  theology,  saying  it  represents  God  as  unmerciful 
by  regarding  our  race  as  lost,  if  they  were  considerate, 
would  perceive  that  we  verily  magnify  the  mercy  of  God 
by  regarding  it  as  that  which  has  opened  a  way  of  sal- 
vation not  merely  unto  the  partially  bewildered,  but 


THE  GREAT  QUERY.  57 

unto  the  utterly  lost.  Nor  does  it  seem  necessary  that 
we  should  insist  at  much  length  upon  the  thought  under 
consideration,  that  personal  exertion  is  necessary  unto  sal- 
vation. All  the  lessons  of  natural  theology  drawn  from 
a  consideration  of  God's  dealings  with  us  in  temporal 
concerns,  and  all  the  lessons  of  supernatural  theology 
drawn  from  the  pages  of  inspiration,  are  at  one  in  their 
testimony  on  this  point,  that  although  means  are  in 
themselves  utterly  powerless,  so  that  there  is  no  natural 
efficacy  in  seed-sowing  to  produce  plentiful  harvests,  or 
in  Bible-reading  to  produce  regeneration,  yet  alike  in 
each,  by  His  own  arbitrary  arrangement  has  God  con- 
nected the  end  with  the  means.  So  that  as  he  who  toils 
in  seed-time  shall  rejoice  in  harvest,  and  he  who  i§  pa- 
tient in  well-doing  shall '  reap  eternal  life.  So,  also,  he 
who  slumbereth  in  spring-time  shall  beg  in  autumn, 
and  he  who  believeth  not  shall  be  damned.  The  ques- 
tion of  the  text  is  most  explicit  in  its  teaching  that  he 
who  would  be  saved  has  himself  something  to  do  in  the 
matter ;  and  there  is  no  passage  in  the  Bible  which,  un- 
twisted and  unfrittered  away  by  sectarian  theology,  does 
not  plainly  teach  us  that  just  so  far  as  God's  blessing 
in  the  use  of  means  is  concerned,  there  is  committed 
unto  the  sinner's  hands  the  working  out  of  his  own 
destinies  for  immortality.  We  are  met  on  this  point, 
I  know,  by  two  sects  of  errorists,  alike  antagonistic  to 
each  other  and  to  the  Word  of  God. 

The  one  believing  that  as  a  result  of  Christ's  atone- 
ment the  whole  human  race  will  be  saved,  irrespective 
altogether  of  moral  character,  thus  disarraying  Deity  of 
His  truth  and  His  righteousness  and  His  immaculate 
justice,  and  tearing  away  with  a  daring  hand  the  very 


58  THE  GREAT  QUERY. 

pillars  of  the  eternal  throne,  and  arraying  the  Divine 
character  in  the  flimsy  garb  of  a  sighing  sentimentalism, 
of  an  insane  and  driveling  tenderness,  yea,  making  God 
Himself  an  immense  and  omnipotent  sinner,  by  making 
Him  in  His  operations  an  Infinite  abettor  of  sin.  The 
other  is  that  of  hyper-Calvinisra,  or  Antinomianism, 
which,  because  a  God  wise  enough  to  govern  His  great 
empire  with  some  forecasting  design  must  necessarily 
have  decrees  or  far-reaching  .plans  of  governmental 
operation,  would  therefore  represent  man  as  a  mere 
machine,  not  to  operate,  but  to  be  operated  upon  ;  telling 
us  that  if  man  is  to  be  saved  he  will  be  saved,  and  if  he 
is  to  be  damned  he  will  be  damned,  and  not  knowing 
that  sovereignty  is  as  far  removed  from  oppression  as  it 
is  from  inefficiency  in  their  anxiety  to  honor  God  by 
making  Him  a  sovereign,  do  in  verity  foully  dishonor 
God  by  rendering  Him  a  tyrant.  Now,  that  both  of 
these  systems  of  belief  are  dark  and  dangerous  errors 
is  so  evident  upon  the  very  face  of  the  Bible,  that  no 
one  ever  embraced  either,  save  he  who  sits  down  to  its 
study  with  a  pre-arranged  creed,  to  square  with  w^hich 
God's  livinc:  truth  must  be  twisted  or  frittered  awav. 

The  whole  testimony  of  God's  past  dealings  with  our 
race,  and  the  whole  testimony  of  our  individual  experi- 
ence, and  the  whole  testimony  of  the  Bible  from  its 
earliest  prophecy  to  its  latest  curse,  is  at  one  on  this 
matter  of  human  free  agency  and  human  responsibility, 
and  the  necessity  of  human  activity  unto  human  salva- 
tion. ISoiy  indeed,  that  man  can  save  himself,  or  do 
anything  in  itself  calculated  at  all  to  produce  salvation ; 
for  the  question  in  the  text  is  not,  '^  Hoiu  shall  I  save 
myself  f  but,  ''  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  f     But 


THE  GREAT  QUERY.  59 

their  testimony  is,  that  he  who  sits  down  calmly  in 
his  lost  estate,  trusting  to  God's  general  mercy,  and  he 
who  waits  in  indolent  expectation  for  the  saving  influ- 
ence of  Divine  decrees,  will  together  be  roused  at  last 
from  their  insane  idleness,  their  faith  vain,  and  their 
hopes  withered,  and  their ^souls  lost.  Man  is  a  poor,, 
lost  being  in  the  storms  of  sin  ;  and  there  is  the  cloud 
above  and  the  hurricane  around  and  the  sea  beneath, 
and  throufrh  these  floats  heaven's  life-boat  over  the  wild 
billows.  Be  ye  as  certain  as  there  is  a  God  above  you^ 
that  there  shall  be  saved  by  it  not  a  single  soul  that 
does  not  leap  away  alike  from  wreck  and  spar,  and 
struggle  toward  the  heaven-sent  craft  with  the  might 
and  the  mastery  of  a  living  faith. 

Thirdly.  "  MusC^  Now,  this  leads  us  to  remark,  as 
the  third  and  last  point  suggested  by  the  text,  the  neces- 
sity of  doing  at  once  that  which  is  necessary  unto  salva- 
tion, namely,  to  comply  w4th  Paul's  direction  unto  the 
jailor  —  "Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  be 
saved."  We  say  this  point  is  suggested  by  the  text,  for 
the  predominant  anxiety  in  the  mind  of  the  convicted 
Pagan  was  for  instant  safety.  "  What  shall  I  do — not 
to-morrow,  but  now — to  he  saved  f  And  here  we  con- 
fess that  so  manifold  and  so  mighty  are  the  points  of 
advocacy  pressing  upon  us,  that,  straightened  as  we  are 
by  the  narrowness  of  our  limits,  we  are  at  a  loss  in 
selecting. 

(a.)  "VYe  might  dwell  upon  the  unmeasured  value  of 
the  soul  itself;  upon  its  essence,  linking  it  in  its  imma- 
teriality into  the  essence  of  Deity  ;  upon  its  capacities, 
giving  it  the  hopes  and  the  desires  and  the  aspirations, 
yea,  equipping  it  with  the  mighty  wings  of  the  angels. 


60  THE  GREAT  QUERY, 

for  immortal  soaring  ;  upon  its  attributes  linking  it  unto 
existence  by  a  tie  that  the  long  lapse  of  eternity,  and  the 
iires  of  eternity,  and  the  storms  of  eternity,  can  never 
Aveaken  or  melt  away  or  shatter  into  dust,  showing  you 
how  that  which  the  sinner  leaves  in  jeopardy  by  a 
moment's  delay  is  worth  more,  a  thousand  times,  than 
all  the  mighty  systems  of  the  universe  of  God. 

(6.)  We  might  set  forth  the  sympathies  which  all 
heaven  has  felt  for  man  in  his  lost  estate,  showing  you 
how  from  the  farthest  period  of  eternity  the  forecasting 
tenderness  of  the  Most  High  has  fastened  itself  most 
mightily  on  the  outworking  of  human  salvation ;  how 
in  the  council  chamber  of  immensity  it  was  devised, 
and  amid  the  throbbings  of  the  universe  it  was  acted  out; 
and  how  heaven's  high  arches  rang  with  acclamations 
when  it  was  completed ;  and  how,  even  now,  angels 
speed  their  delegated  way  to  our  lost  world,  waiting  and 
watching  and  the  Holy  Ghost  wooing  with  all  His  ten- 
der influences,  and  God  the  Father,  beseeching  with 
an  all  constraining  Father's  love,  and  the  Son  of  God 
praying  and  pleading  by  His  broken  body  and  His  shed 
blood ;  and  that,  therefore,  the  necessity  for  an  ardent 
and  instant  fleeing  for  salvation  to  the  blood  of  sprink- 
ling can  be  measured  only  by  the  height  and  the  depth 
and  the  length  and  the  breath  of  the  immortal  and 
eternal  and  almighty  sympathies  of  heaven. 

(c.)  Or,  lastly,  we  might  set  forth  the  greatness  of 
the  salvation  itself,  showing  you  how  it  consists  in  the 
pardon  of  every  sin,  a  personal  justification,  the  renova- 
tion of  a  ruined  nature  in  God's  image,  an  adoption  into 
God's  own  household,  a  consolation  in  every  sorrow,  a 
triumph  in  death,  a  joy  in  the  resurrection,  a  complete 


THE  GREAT  QUERY.  61 

acquittal  at  the  Judgment,  a  blissful   admission  into 
eternal  life.     We  might  tell  you  all  we  know  of  heaven^ 
the  jeweled  pavilion  of.  the  eternal  one,  where  every 
lustre   is   extinguished,  that   God,  with   His   burning- 
essence,    may   be   the   light   of  it,   and   every   temple 
removed,  that  God  may  be  the  temple  of  it,  and  ever}^ 
habitation  forgotten,  that  God  may  be  in  us  and  we  in 
Him.     Yea,  we  might  whisper  startlingly  all  we  knoAV 
of  hell,  that  great  exile  island  of  the  universe,  that  great 
burial  place  of  immortality,   that  great  death-bed  of 
eternal  death,  and  show  you  that  by  all  that  is  pleasant 
in   life  and  all  that  is  painful  in  death,  by  all  that  is 
fleeting  in  time  and  all  that  is  fastening  in  eternity  and 
all  that  is  alluring  in  heaven  and  all  that  is  startling  in 
hell,  there  is  put  the  light  of  a  living  demonstration 
upon  the  awful  folly  of  him  who  does  not,  as  the  first 
great  object  of  his  anxiety,  seek  the  salvation  of  his 
soul.     And  I  do  not  doubt  but  that,  as  we  went  along 
in  such  a  demonstration,"  the  assent  of  every  candid 
impenitent  mind  would  go  along  with  us,  and  that  each 
one  would  go  away  from  God's  house  with  a  resolution 
at  some  time  before  death  to  attend  to  the  eternal  interests 
of  the  soul.     And  it  is,  therefore,  just  at  this  point  of  a 
determination   to  procrastinate,  that  our  text  meets  us 
with  an    admonition;    and,  therefore,  upon  that  only 
point  we  fasten  your  attention  to-day.     "  What  shall  I 
do — do  no\v — to  be  saved  f^     The  thought  is  the  neces- 
sity, not  of  the  future,  but  of  immediate  soul-saving. 

"  To-morroioJ^  Why,  by  all  the  frailty  of  this  ani- 
mal framework,  and  by  all  the  chances  and  changes  of 
this  shifting  mortality,  and  by  all  the  anger  of  an  in- 
censed and  patience-wearied  God,  the  vast  likelihood  is, 


62  THE  GREAT  QUERY. 

that  to  the  poor,  lost  soul  there  shall  be  no  to-morrow  ; 
that  the  spar  will  be  washed  away  from  the  grasp  of  the 
shipwrecked  man  ere  the  son  rise  up  again  to  shine  upon 
his  sea-tossed  head.  And  if  to-morrow  comes,  why,  it 
will  come  to  a  harder  heart,  and  a  deader  conscience,  and 
a  love  more  fastened  unto  the  world,  and  pulses  bound- 
ing weaklier  for  immortality,  and  a  body  bound  by  a 
mightier  likelihood  unto  the  resurrection  of  despair,  and 
a  soul  bound  by  a  more  awful  probability  unto  the  retri- 
bution of  damnation.  It  will  come  as  to-morrow  comes 
unto  the  shipwrecked  and  the  sea-tossed,  weakened  and 
wearied  by  the  spai -grasping,  and  feeblier  able  to  let  go 
the  wreck  and  breast  the  billows  and  leap  unto  the  life- 
boat. Oh  !  it  is  this  accursed  plea  of  a  future  time  and 
a  convenient  season,  on  which,  as  an  awful  resting-place, 
so  many  a  precious  immortal  has  stretched  himself  to 
slumber,  and  woke  up  in  hell.  And  therefore  it  is,  that 
although  we  have  little  hope  that  ye  are  not,  even  now, 
stifling  the  whisj:>ers  of  conscience  by  the  thought  of  a 
repentance  to  come,  and  little  hope  that  our  feeble  words 
will  do  anything  more  than  add  the  weight  of  another 
hardenino;  unto  the  metal  of  vour  sinful  hearts,  and  little 
hope  that  our  ministry  unto  you  to-day  will  not  have 
proved  in  eternity  ^^a  savor  of  death  unto  death,'^  yet  in 
the  winding-up  of  our  discourse  we  would  strive  to  fasten 
upon  you  this  last  lesson  of  the  text,  that  if  there  be 
anything  to  be  done  for  your  souVs  salvation  it  must  be 
done  at  once. 

This,  moro  than  anything  else,  is  the  awful  truth 
breaking  mightily  upon  the  soul  from  the  stern  scenery 
of  the  text.  Look  at  it  a  moment.  That  prison  of 
Philippi !      What  see  you  ?     A  dark  and  damp  dun- 


THE  GREAT  QUERY.  63 

geon,  shattered  and  shaken,  and  two  old  men  rising  in 
mild  majesty  from  their  earthquake-riven  chains.  And 
what  else  ?  AVhat  else  ?  Behold  !  a  heathen  roused  by 
the  heaving  of  the  shaken  earth,  and  feeling  within  him 
the  mighty  consciousness  of  unpardoned  sin,  and  believ- 
ing that  he  felt  the  death-throb  of  an  expiring  world  and 
stood  on  the  very  abyss  of  a  rushing  eternity.  Behold ! 
with  his  damp  locks  bristling  into  life,  and  his  wild 
eyes  straining  into  vacancy,  and  lip  and  limb  working 
with  the  maniac  agony  of  fear,  he  leapeth  into  those  old 
men's  dungeon,  and  layeth  lowly  at  the  Apostles'  feet. 
\Yhy,  what  aileth  the  man  ?  The  prisoners  are  all  safe. 
The  dungeon  walls  have  ceased  to  totter.  The  mighty 
earthquake  sleeps  again.  Why,  then,  that  trembling  of 
the  body?  Why  that  agony  of  the  soul  ?  Is  the  man  a 
maniac?  Is  the  man  death-struck?  What  aileth  the 
Phifippian  there  on  the  damp  ground  ?  Why,  my 
hearers,  he  is  lost !  he  is  lost !  Hark  to  his  wild  cry, 
"  What  shall  I  do  to  he  saved  f  "  What  shall  I  do  to  he 
saved  f  ^'  Go  to  now,  ye  that  say.  To-morrow  we  will  go 
into  such  a  city  and  buy  and  sell  and  get  gain,  whereas 
ye  know  not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow."  Get  ye  unto 
the  prison  of  Philippi,  and  with  all  those  opiate  draughts 
wherewith  ye  are  drugging  your  own  souls  into  the 
death-trap,  solace,  if  ye  can,  that  jailor's  sorrow  and 
soothe  that  jailor's  soul.  *'A  future  time!"  "Where, 
oh  where,  has  God  promised  it?"  "A  convenient  season ! " 
"Is  it  so  written  in  God's  book?"  "To-morrow!" 
"Why,  to-morrow  I  may  be  in  hell."  "  Xay,  now! 
now!  I  am  on  a  volcano's  brink!  I  am  out  at  sea, 
shipwrecked  and  sea-beaten!  I  am  on  the  very  border- 
line of  a  hopeless  eternity  !     I  am  lost !     I  am  lost ! 


64  THE  GREAT  QUERY. 

What  shall  I  do  to  he  saved?      ]Miat  shall  I  do  to  be 
saved  f 

So  reasoned  the  poor  Pagan  Avhen  God  opened  his 
eyes  to  see  how  he  hung  by  a  single  hair  over  eternal 
burnings.  Would  to  God,  ray  beloved  out  of  Christ,  ye 
would  reason  so  to-day.  Would  to  God  you  could  see 
yourselves  just  as  ye  are  seen  by  the  far-reaching  ages  of 
eternity.  Would  to  God  ye  knew  how  frail  a  thing  is 
life,  and  how  strong  a  thing  is  death,  and  how  dark  a 
place  is  the  grave,  and  how  fearful  will  be  the  judgment 
hour,  and  how  blest  a  home  is  heaven,  and  how  black  a 
home  is  hell.  Lost !  lost !  Oh,  it  is  an  awful  word  ! 
How  the  very  sound  comes  to  the  heart  linked  with 
fearful  associations  !  Behold !  there  is  a  babe  in  the 
wilderness ;  the  night  is  gathering  and  the  storm  moan- 
ing through  the  branches,  and  the  cry  of  the  wild  beast 
breaking  on  the  ear.  How  think  you  the  mother  feels? 
The  child  is  lost !  And  look  again  !  What  see  you  ? 
A  gallant  ship  upon  the  sea,  like  a  white-winged  bird 
lying  with  dark  breast  on  the  waves.  How  like  a  liv- 
ing^ thinoj  it  rides  the  waters  !  Ah  !  but  what  aileth  the 
voyagers  ?  Listen  !  That  dull  sound  !  ^Tis  the  mael- 
strom !  They  are  already  on  the  outer  circle  of  the  dread 
abyss.  Louder  and  yet  louder  the  roar,  wilder  and  yet 
wilder  the  rush  of  the  mighty  waters  !  See  now  the  mari- 
ners roused  from  slumber,  rushing  to  the  deck!  Mark 
their  convulsive  struggles  at  helm  and  oar !  Hark  unto 
their  wild  cry  rising  above  the  roar  of  the  waters !  What 
aileth  tlie  mariners?  Why,  they  are  lost!  they  are 
lost !  Lost  !  lost  I  Why,  the  very  sound  is  appalling  ! 
It  is  like  a  death-knell !  A  lost  child !  A  lost  mariner ! 
What   think   you,   then,   of  a   lost   soul?      Oh  I    our 


THE  GREAT  QUERY.  65 

thoughts  are  feeble,  our  conceptious  are  those  of  childreD 
over  the  story  of  crushed  empires.  What  meaneth  it? 
What  meaneth  it  ?  A  lost  soul !  Ye  children  of  eter- 
nity, ye  saved  in  heaven,  ye  lost  in  hell,  tell  us  Avhat  it 
means  !  Son  of  God,  tell  us  ^vhat  it  means  !  Spirit  of 
God,  tell  us  what  it  means  !  Expound  unto  this  dying 
congregation  that  awful  word,  ^^  Lost  V  For  vre  would 
see  men  starting  from  their  dreams  to-day.  We  would 
see  limbs  trembling  and  hearts  breaking,  and  spirits 
bowed  with  a  mightv  dread,  and  strong^  men  crvino^ 
out  in  terror,  "  TI7ia^  shall  v-e  do  to  he  saved  f  What 
shall  we  do  to  he  saved  P^ 


A  FAITHFlJL  SAYING. 


"  This  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ 
Jestts  caine  into  the  world  to  save  sinners J'^ — I  TiMOTHY  I.  1 5. 

There  is  abundaot  material  in  this  text  for  a  thou- 
sand sermons  ;  yea,  there  are  in  it  themes  of  thought 
which  have  for  thousands  of  years  engrossed  the  scholar- 
ship of  angels,  and  whereon  will  be  taslced  the  powers  of 
all  celestial  intelligence  throughout  eternity.  It  contains, 
indeed,  the  whole  sum  and  substance  of  the  Gospel.  All 
that  system  of  infinite  and  stupendous  truth,  of  which  our 
Divine  Lord  Himself  declared,  that  he  who  believed  it 
should  be  saved,  and  he  who  rejected  it  should  be  lost. 
At  present  we  propose  no  more  than  a  hurried  glance  at 
the  simpler  and  more  apparent  thoughts  which  its 
perusal  must  suggest  to  every  child  s  trustful  intellect. 
To  such  humble  and  devout  analysis  it  presents  only  two 
subjects  of  discourse. 

I.  A  saying  J  and, 

IL   Tlie  character  of  that  saying. 

First. — We  have  here  an  Apostolic  saying,  a  sentence, 
an  utterance,  a  tornado  of  thought.  And  this  Paul  in- 
troduces with  a  solemn  magnificence  of  language  which 
on  any  otlier  theme  and  from  any  other  Apostle  would 
seem  pompous,  magniloquent,  as  if  he  were  about  to 
utter  some  marvelous  truth  challenging  the  admiration, 
the  astonishment  of  the  world  in  the  midst  of  a  narra- 
tive and  an  argument  unsuggested,  almost  incongrous,  as 
a  parenthetical  and  suddenly  revealed  truth,  which  must 


A  FAITHFUL  SAYING.  67 

be  instantly  declared,  he  breaks  out  thus  sententiously, 
vehemently,  enthusiastically,  ^^  This  is  a  faithful  saying, 
and  v:orthy  of  all  acceptation:^ 

Aud  what  is  this  stupendous  aphorism,  this  wonder- 
ful thought,  this  all-glorious  reyelation  ?  Some  pro- 
found philosophy,  which  young  Timothy  had  not 
learned?  Some  transcending  revelation  ^vhich  the  Church 
did  not  know?  Nay,  not  this,  else  the  world  would 
cry,  ^^  Alas  for  PauV  s  pretentious  platitude  T^  So  simple 
is  it,  that  Sabbath-school  teachers  repeat  it  to  little 
children, ''  Clii'ist  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinriers.'' 

And  this  was  all ;  and  at  first  it  does  seem  that  Paul, 
coming  fresh  from  those  famous  philosophic  schools, 
coming  back  from  long  wandering  amid  the  mighty 
cities  of  that  elder  Avorid,  yea,  coming  back  from  that 
raptdre  into  Paradise,  where  he  had  heard  eternal  mys- 
teries set  forth  even  in  tongues  of  angels  ;  it  does  seem 
that  Paul  might  have  proclaimed  some  saying  more 
magnificent  and  wonderfuL 

But  let  us  consider  for  a  little  this  seeming  platitude, 
and  see  whether  Paul  only  driveled  when  he  delared  it 
so  wonderful. 

'^  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  icorldJ'  "  Jesus  ^'  came. 
"  Jesus, '^  a  human  name ;  a  Son  of  Man  was  born  among 
men.  And  how  did  even  an  event  like  this  seem  unto 
the  angels  when  the  first  man  appeared  on  this  planet  ? 
Up  to  that  moment  there  had  been  under  these  skies 
only  forms  of  irrational  life  ;  and  so  far  earth  must  have 
seemed  a  malformation,  at  least  a  lavish  if  not  a  foolish 
extravaganza  of  God.  To  round  such  a  sphere  into 
beauty,  and  hang  it  amid  the  stars,  only  as  a  plantation 
for  forest  trees,  or  a  pasturage  for  cattle  ! 


eS  A  FAITHFUL  SAYING. 

But  when  a  glorious  creature,  made  in  God's  own 
image,  wise  and  mighty  to  subdue  unto  himself  all  in- 
ferior types  of  life,  did  dwell  in  it  as  a  palace,  and  set 
on  it  as  a  throne,  then  was  Divine  "  Wisdom  justified 
of  her  children/'  and  the  bringing  of  man  into  the 
world  seems  a  work  of  glory  and  of  love  worthy  a 
God. 

But  more, "  Jesus  Clvrist  came  into  the  worldj^ 
"  Christ  !  ''  This  is  not  a  human  name.  It  means. 
The  Messiah,  The  Annointed,  The  Sent.  It  is  a  title 
of  office.  It  bespeaks  the  legate,  the  credentialed  em- 
bassador, the  representative  of  kingly  power ;  yea,  it 
designated  the  mysterious  personage  whom  the  prophecy 
of  all  time  had  foretold,  and  all  forms  of  the  older  wor- 
ship adored  with  mysterious  types  and  in  magnificent 
temples,  and  for  whom  all  the  world  waited,  as  the  last 
awful  Theopliany,  who  was  to  deliver  it  from  all  evil, 
recreating  the  race  in  the  Divine  image,  restoring  the 
lost  paradise,  making  all  things  new. 

^'  Jesus  Christ  coMe.''^  Paul  does  not  say,  as  of  other 
creatures,  ^^  lie  was  hrougld  into  the  worlds  ^  ^' Sent  into 
the  world,^^  ^^Born  into  tJie  world/'  but  he  "  Came  into 
the  world  J'  He  speaks  of  Him  as  a  subject,  a  voluntary 
actor.  He  absolutely  affirms  here  Christ's  Divine  pre- 
existence.  He  speaks  of  Him  as  acting  before  His  hu- 
man birth,  yea,  of  that  birth  itself  as  a  result  of  His 
own  volition  ;  of  a  being  self-existent  in  another  sphere, ' 
and  of  His  ownfee  will  appearing  among  men.  "  Jesus 
Christ  came  into  the  rvorldJ' 

But  whence  came  He  ?  Had  He  come  from  some 
other  world  merely?  From  some  distant  star?  Some 
smaller  and  scarcely-seen  orb  that  sparkles  in  the  firma- 


A  FAITHFUL  SAYING.  69 

ment  of  night  ?  Even  then  advent  had  seemed  wonderful, 
and  all  princes  and  kings  of  the  earth  would  have  gathered 
to  witness  and  to  welcome  Him !  But  Jesus  Christ 
came  from  the  high  place  of  heaven,  from  the  metrop- 
olis, of  God's  great  empire,  from  His  position  on  the 
riglit  hand  of  the  very  throne  of  God.  And  now,  ver- 
ilv,  my  brethren,  Paul's  platitude  begins  to  appear  won- 
derful. Had  it  been  the  story  of  a  creature  coming 
from  distant  star  on  an  embassy,  or  as  a  simple  visitor 
to  a  sister  province  in  God's  great  empire,  He  would 
have  excited  all  nations:  But  from  yonder  heaven  of 
heavens  Jesus  Christ  came,  the  Eternal  Son,  whose  place 
was  on  the  right  hand  of  the  King  of  Kings.  He  came 
to  dwell  among  His  creatures  ;  and  this  does  seem  very 
wonderful ! 

^^  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  wor-ld  ;  into  this  world ;^^ 
and  here  the  wonder  deepens.  Had  that  Diwine  visit 
])een  to  some  other  unfallen  and  mightier  and  more  glo- 
ixous  province  of  God's  vast  empire,  it  had  not.  perhaps, 
been  so  surprising.  But  not  unto  such  worlds,  in  their 
beautiful  holiness,  went  forth  the  Divine  chariot  from 
the  eternal  city  of  God. 

"Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  ivorld — this  tvorld^  This 
revolted  province,  this  low  sphere  of  man's  wretched 
and  sinful  life.  Not  unto  the  scenes  of  transcendent 
loveliness,  where,  amid  thrones  and  dominions  and 
principalities  and  powers,  the  crowned  children  of 
eternity  walk  their  high  paths,  but  to  man's  lowly  home 
He  came,  to  Bethlehem  and  Kazareth  and  Gethsemane 
and  Calvary  ;  and  the  truth  does  seem  wonderful ! 

And  yet,  up  to  this  point,  we  have  only  crossed  the 
border  of  the  great  mystery. 


70  A  FAITHFUL  SAYING. 

^^  Jesus  Christ  came  into  this  worldJ^  But  for  what? 
and  with  what?  Up  to  this  point  the  angelic  liosts 
might  have  anticipated  the  wonder.  When  they  learned 
that  the  new  created  race  of  man  had  broken  the  Di- 
vine Covenant,  and  incurred  the  Divine  indignation, 
they  might  have  expected  the  going  forth  of  Divine 
jjower  to  sweep  such  disloyalty  away  from  the  face  of 
creation !  And  when,  rising  up  from  that  eternal  throne, 
this  glorious  Son  of  God  prepared  for  this  earthly 
advent,  methinks  a  strange  terror  fell  on  the  gazing 
universe,  as  if  the  awful  Jehovah  were  going  forth  to 
that  once  bright  world  to  punish,  to  destroy. 

But  not  this  the  record.  "  Christ  Jesus  came  into 
the  world  to  save '' — to  save. 

Nor  ends  the  wonder  here.  To  save  whom  ?  To 
those  angels  looking  down  upon  this  rebellious  earth,  it 
might  have  seemed  that,  while  the  race  were  in  revolt, 
yet  some  individuals  still  retained  their  love  and  their 
loyalty ;  and  so  they  might  have  thought,  that  if  tlie 
Son  of  God  went  forth  on  an  errand  of  mercy,  it  would 
be  to  deliver  such  righteous  souls  from  this  sphere  of 
rebellion,  and  sweep  away  into  merited  destruction  the 
remnant  of  the  race. 

But  not  this  the  story.  ''  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the 
icorld  to  save  sinners J^  "Sinners  !''  Not  the  pure,  the 
unfallen,  the  holy  ;  not  merely  the  noble,  the  excellent, 
the  lovely ;  but  the  rebel,  the  outcast,  the  despised  of  God's 
law,  the  reviler  even  of  God's  infinite  loving-kindness. 
And  verily,  I  record,  all  this  does  seem  full  of  wonders. 
And  it  is  worthy  of  all  the  pomp  of  diction  and  preten- 
tion of  thought,  wherewith  Paul  prefaced  it.     This  is  a 


A  FAITHFUL  SAYING.  71 

faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that 
Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  icorld  to  save  sinners. 

Now  this  leads  us,  as  the  other  obvious  and  simple 
subject  of  the  text,  to  consider, 

Secondly.  The  character  or  excellency  of  this  Apos- 
tolic saying.  As  Paul  puts  it,  '^  A  faithful  saying,  and 
worthy  of  all  acceptation.''^ 

The  word  here  rendered  saying,  in  the  original  is  very 
expressive.  It  is  ^^  Logos,^^  the  same  which  in  John's 
Gospel  is  applied  to  Christ  Himself,  and  translated 
"  The  WordJ'  It  denotes  a  remarkable  saying,  an 
aphorism,  a  proverb,  a  Divine  saying,  a  formula  of  lan- 
guage which,  because  of  its  importance,  has  become  axio- 
matic. 

"A  saying,"  ''  Faithful, '^  i.  e.,  a  true  saying,  a  system 
of  doctrines  whose  verity  is  demonstrable — absolutely 
established. 

Paul  here,  as  if  in  prophecy  and  miracles,  the  mani- 
festly Divine  character  of  Christ's  w^ords  and  works^ 
there  was  an  amount  of  evidence  compelling  all  rational 
faith,  does  not  pause  a  single  moment  to  argue  the  truth 
of  his  saying,  but  asserts  it  triumphantly  at  the  outset, 
as  something  already  proven,  and  henceforth  only  to  be 
proclaimed  and  accepted. 

And  this  ^^saying'^  may  be  considered  as  Paul's  Creed, 
formulary  of  doctrines,  confession  of  faith.  For,  care- 
fully considered,  it  will  be  found  to  embrace  all  doctrines 
w^hich  the  Church  holds  as  fundamental  to  salvation ;  to 
wit:  that  man  by  nature  is  a  poor,  lost  sinner;  that 
Jesus. Christ,  uniting  two  distinct  natures — human  and 
Divine — is  his  only  Saviour  ;  that  His  mission  of  salva- 
tion was  not  merely  as  a  prophet  to  instruct,  but  as  a 


72  A  FAITHFUL  SAYING. 

priest  to  atone ;  and  that  He  came  not  to  save  all  men  in 
general,  but  individually  and  personally,  such  as,  feeling 
their  own  guilt  and  danger,  turned  away  from  all  systems 
of  self-righteousness,  cast  themselves  for  salvation  on 
this  great  atoning  sacrifice,  expressing  their  true  peni- 
tence and  faith  in  this  comprehensive  formula  of  belief 
and  love. 

^It  is  a  faithfid  saying,  and  ico7'thy  of  all  acceptation, 
that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners,  of 
whom  lam  chiefs  So  Paul  puts  the  marvelous  com- 
prehensiveness of  his  saying.  And  he  adds  to  all  this, 
the  thought  of  its  ineffable  and  infinite  preciousness. 

^^A  saying  faithful  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation.''^ 
The  word  acceptation  denotes,  in  the  original,  hospitality 
and  loving  reception  of  a  guest,  a  taking  at  once  as  truth 
into  the  intellect  and  the  heart.  The  word  "  All ''  is 
used  here  in  its  very  widest  application.  Paul  declares 
that  this  ^^ faithful  saying  '^  is  worthy  of  universal  un- 
questioning, instantaneous  and  adoring  reception.  The 
acceptation  of  all  men — of  the  rich,  the  wise,  the  mighty, 
the  noble — for  it  proclaims  them  all  alike  "  sinners  ;'^ 
and,  the  while,  of  the  poor  and  the  wretched  and  the  ig- 
norant and  the  outcast,  for  it  teaches  that  in  God's  re- 
gard all  men  are  esteemed  equal,  for  all  men  are  sin- 
ners. It  is  worthy  of  the  reception  of  all  men  in  all 
their  varieties  of  moral  character,  for  it  teaches  the  man 
of  the  most  exalted  natural  virtues,  and  beautified  witli 
all  the  purities  of  the  highest  social  life,  that  he  is,  not- 
withstanding, a  poor,  lost  sinner.  And  it  teaches  the 
veriest  outcast  from  all  that  is  lovely  and  of  good  re- 
port, that  for  him  there  is  eternal  life,  for  Christ  came 
into  the  world  to  save  j^oor,  lost  sinners.     It  is  worthy 


A  FAITHFUL  SAYING.  73 

the  reception  of  every  order  of  intellect,  for  there  is  a 
simplicity  and  comprehensibleness  in  this  saying  which 
the  most  child-like  and  unlearned  and  imbecile  can  un- 
derstand. And,  the  while,  there  is  a  breadth  and  a 
height  and  a  magnificence  and  an  absolute  infinity  of 
truth  which  will  throughout  eternity  baffle  the  powers 
of  every  finite  intelligence,  and  which  the  angels  of  God 
bend  over  in  adoring  scholarship,  desiring  to  look  into. 
It  is  worthy  the  acceptation  of  all  men  in  every  possible 
sphere  and  condition  of  life. 

I  may  be  in  ^^rosperity.  God  may  have  gathered 
around  me,  in  His  boundless  love,  all  the  beautiful  and 
bright  things  of  earth,  until,  walking  in  a  paradise  and 
reposing  in  a  palace,  my  heart  be  tempted  to  make  idols 
out  of  the  finite  loveliness  in  forgetfulness  of  the  Infi- 
nite. But,  then,  one  thought  of  this  stupendous  deed 
of  my  Redeemer  Avill  so  touch  my  proud  heart  that  in 
adoring,  over-mastering  gratitude  I  shall  turn  away 
from  every  idol,  and  worship  only  my  God. 

I  may  be  in  adversity  ;  and  in  my  lonely  and  forlorn 
home  there  may  be  only  the  crust  of  bread  and  the  cup 
of  water.  Or  from  some  grave,  whereunto  has  gone 
down  my  darling,  there  may  have  risen  up  a  thick 
cloud,  in  whose  shadow  my  home  and  heart  seem  sunk 
in  the  very  Valley  of  Death.  Yet  even  there  are 
thousrhts  of  redeemino;  love. 

Salvation  !  Salvation  !  Its  grace  in  the  present  and  in 
the  future,  its  invisible  and  infinite  gladness  will  so 
overbear  all  mortal  agony  and  anguish,  that,  as  Paul,  in 
the  high  places  of  Christian  faith  and  hope  and  love, 
far  up,  as  it  were,  even  midway  between  earth  and 
heaven,  I   can  look  down   on   the   wildest  storms  and 


74  A  FAITHFUL  SAYING. 

seas  of  earthly  trial,  and  laugh  them  to  scorn  as  only 
*^  the  Ugld  (fff^idions  which  are  but  for  a  moment,'^  because 
on  them  falls,  the  while,  all  the  unveiled  splendor, 
"  the  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  iveigJd  of  gloryj' 

I  can  not  enlarge.  Enough  of  these  brief,  mortal 
thoughts  incite  us  to  feel  the  truth,  for  all  the  im- 
mortal powers  and  eternal  life  of  an  angel  can  never 
comprehend  it.  This  truth  of  Apostolic  faith  and 
rapture  and  love,  this  saying  faithful  and  worthy  of  all 
acceptation,  that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save 
sinnerSy  of  which  I  am  chief 

Now  to  this  faithful  saying.  Are  you  a  little  child  ? 
See  that  w^onderful  babe  as  it  weeps  in  the  manger  of 
Bethlehem.  Jesus  Christ  came  to  save  you.  Are  you 
in  the  prime  and  strength  of  proud  manhood  ?  See  that 
wonderful  form  upon  the  cross,  bearing  your  sins,  en- 
during your  sorrows.  Jesus  Christ  came  to  save  you. 
Oh  !  I  would  not  weary  you  with  my  much  speaking; 
yet,  standing  as  I  do  to-night,  so  close  to  this  suffering 
Saviour,  and  knowing  how  much  you  need  to  feel  in 
your  heart  His  converting  grace  and  His  comforting 
love,  I  cannot  suffer  you  to  turn  away  from  the  Cross  of 
my  suffering  Lord  without  one  earnest  word  of  exhorta- 
tion and  entreaty.  You  may  tell  me  that  you  have 
seen  too  much,  and  know  too  much,  to  be  scared  by 
poor  trickries  of  priestcraft.  But  we  tell  you,  this  is 
no  deception,  no  fraud,  no  delusion.  Ask  your  father; 
ask  your  mother  ;  ask  yonder  dying  saint,  whose  fading 
eyes  are  yet  flashing  with  the  out-bursting  glories  of 
immortality.  Nay,  look  upon  this  Cross,  this  suffering, 
dying  victim,  suffering  for  you,  dying  for  you,  and 
learn,  learn  ;  that  it  is  "  a  faithful  saying^  and  worthy 


A  FAITHFUL  SAYING.  75 

of  all  acceptation^  that  Jesus  Christ  ceime  into  the  tcorld  to 
save  sinners.'^ 

But  the  application  is  mainly  nnto  Christ's  professing 
followers.  We  have  been  considering  this  great  fact  of 
redemption  as  set  forth  in  our  blessed  sacrament,  and 
we  want  to  go  away  and  abide  under  the  full  power  df  its 
truths.  If  hitherto  we  have  been  remiss  in  the  work  of  our 
Divine  Master,  we  want  this  truth  to  quicken  us.  Oh, 
how  can  we  longer  live  at  this  poor,  dying  rate,  in  a 
world  where  the  Son  of  God  died  to  save  us  !  He  came 
from  the  embraces  of  His  Father's  love.  He  came  to  a 
world  of  sinfulness  and  to  a  life  of  agony,  that  we 
might  be  saved.  Redemption  !  Oh,  what  a  thought  it 
is  to  quicken  every  power  in  His  blessed  service  !  Re- 
demption! Why,  we  lay  in  that  awful  dungeon.  There 
was  no  voice  whispering  of  home  in  the  thick  darkness. 
Those  iron  and  adamantine  bulwarks  shut  away  all 
angelic  succor ;  shut  our  poor  souls  in  unto  despairing 
anguish;  but  we  are  redeemed,  bought  back.  A  glorious 
light  flashed  through  the  prison-house  ;  the  heavy  chains 
fell  off;  the  awful  portal  opens ;  and  see !  see !  a 
glorious  form  stands  on  the  threshold,  in  His  hands  a 
precious  ransom — all  the  riches,  all  the  raptures,  all 
the  glories  that  had  been  His  with  the  Father  before  the 
world  was;  and  all,  all,  all  lavished  on  our  redemption. 
And  now,  now,  now  what  shall  Ave  deny  unto  our 
Divine  Master.  Oh !  may  God  quicken  us  in  self- 
denying  work  for  Christ's  Church  and  kingdom  by  the 
power  of  Paul's  simple  saying,  ^^  Jesus  Christ  came  into 
the  tcorld  to  save  sinner s,'^^ 

But  if  this  truth  be  powerful   to  exhort,  it   is   yet 
mightier   to   comfort.     Redeemed  I     Redeemed  I       Oh, 


76  A  FAITHFUL  SAYING. 

what  a  word  it  is  !  Saved  !  Saved  !  (I  love  to  repeat 
it.)  Oh,  what  a  thought  it  is  I  A  child  saved  from  a 
burniDo-  house !  From  foundation  to  roof  the  red 
surges  hem  liim  m  and  roar  around  him  !  But  see ! 
right  through  the  encircling  fire  rushes  a  mighty  deliv- 
erer ;  and,  reckless  of  danger,  though  his  own  garments 
are  scorched  and  his  own  flesh  burnt,  yet  he  bears  that 
babe  forth,  in  all  its  joyous  life,  to  its  mother's  arms 
again.  Saved !  Saved  !  A  man  overboard  in  a  night 
of  storms,  lifting  one  despairing  cry  in  the  stormy  air, 
and  then  sinking,  despairing,  in  the  devouring  seas  ! 
But,  behold !  a  life-boat  lowered,  manned  !  Darting 
like  a  sea-bird  through  the  blinding  spray,  and  strong 
arms  outstretched  to  snatch  the  poor  cast-away  from  the 
very  jaws  of  death.  Saved  !  Saved  !  Saved  !  Oh, 
what  a  word  it  is  !  Yet  all  this  is  nothing  to  one  soul's 
salvation  from  the  angry  flood  and  the  awful  fires  to 
which  sin  was  bearing  us  !  Oh,  what  gratitude  becomes 
us  !  What  exalting,  everlasting  joy  should  be  ours  ! 
Who  talks  of  trials  ^now,  and  sorrow,  and  afflictions? 
Oh,  let  these  weeping  eyes  flash,  these  breaking  hearts 
bound,  these  complaining  lips  send  heavenward  their 
exulting  hallelujahs  ! 

We  can  not  utter  it  as  a  cold  doctrine  to  be  believed, 
but  we  must  sing  it  as  a  hymn,  shout  it  aloud  as  a  tri- 
umphant hallelujah.  ^^It  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy 
of  all  acceptation,  that  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world 
to  save  sinners,  of  ivhom  I  am  chief  T' 


CROSS  AND  CROWN. 


"  If  so  be  that  we  suffer  with  Him,  that  7>.>e  may  be  also  glot-ified 
together,  for  I  reckon  that  the  sufferings  of  the  present  time  are  not 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  that  shall  be  revealed  in  ■us.'"' — 
Romans,  viii.  17,  18. 

Some  one  lias  beautifully  denominated  the  Bible  '^  A 
record  of  human  sorrows.'^  Beginning  with  the  story 
of  a  heart-breaking  expulsion  from  Eden,  and  ending 
with  the  terrible  and  tearful  predictions  of  the  Apoca- 
lypse, it  is  in  all  verity  like  the  seer's  scroll — ^^  writ- 
ten within  and  Avithout  with  lamentation  and  mourn incr 
and  woe."  The  Bible  is  a  record  of  Christian  loss,  and 
therefore  of  necessity  a  volume  of  mournful  histories 
and  a  compilation  of  tearful  and  touching  incidents. 
For  whatever  others  may  receive  in  this  world,  the  Di- 
vine allotment  unto  every  saint  is  affliction  ;  and  the 
tender  words  of  Jesus  unto  His  trembling  Disciples  in 
alltime  are, "  In  the  world  ye  shall  receive  tribulation.'' 
We  do  not  say,  my  brethren — God  forbid  we  should 
say — that  a  Christian  is  not,  even  on  earth,  mostly  hap- 
pier than  the  man  who  hath  not  felt  the  love  of  God 
shed  abroad  in  the  heart.  Yet  his  well-spring  of  happi- 
ness is  from  a  point  other  and  deeper  than  unalloyed 
earthly  prosperity.  The  internal  texture  of  Christian 
appareling  may  be  unto  the  wearing  spirit  all  soft  and 
silken,  yet  in  its  external  aspect,  even  unto  Christians 
themselves,  it  seemeth  like  tlie  garb  of  Him  crying  in 
Judea's  wilderness — sack-cloth  and  camel's  hair  and  a 
leathern  girdle. 


78  CROSS  AND  CROWN. 

Christiaa  biograpliy  is  of  absolute  necessity,  from  the 
very  nature  of  human  affiliation  to  God — a  record  of 
human  sorro\Y.  And  for  this  reason  do  I  give  thanks 
daily  unto  God  for  the  transcription  among  them  of  the 
life  of  Paul,  a  man  whose  life  was  all  bitterness,  whose 
l-)athway  to  heaven  was  emphatically  and  peculiarly 
rough  and  thorny  and  arduous,  and  yet  whose  joy  in 
God  carried  it  so  mightily  over  all  emotions  of  native 
despondency  that  he  walked  it  in  the  exulting  majesty 
of  a  conqueror  in  his  triumphant  pathway  to  heaven. 
And  in  respect  of  Paul  we  rejoice  specially  in  this,  that 
what  may  be  termed  his  internal  biography,  i.  e.,  tlie 
history  of  his  emotions  and  frames  of  feeling,  have  been 
recorded  by  his  own  hand  in  his  Epistles.  So  that  after 
the  heart  of  Paul  hath  decayed  for  eighteen  centuries  in 
the  cold  grave,  yet  with  the  cniotions  of  that  heart  we  are 
to-day  conversant ;  and,  opening  the  pages  of  his  in- 
imitable Epistles,  we  can  learn  the  secret  of  his  abiding 
joy,  as  from  the  resistless  eloquence  of  liis  living  life. 

Our  text  forms  a  thankful  passage  from  this  internal 
life  of  the  Apostle.  It  gives  its  the  reason  of  his  joyous 
exultation  amid  all  tlie  trials  and  tribulations  gathering 
so  thick  along  his  pathway,  and  as  addressed  to  ourselves 
sets  forth  the  philosophy  of  Christian  consolation  under 
afflictions  in  two  general  and  great  particulars,  to  a  con- 
sideration of  which  in  their  order  v,-e  invite  your  atten- 
tion this  mornino^. 

First.  The  first  thought  insisted  on  in  this  connection 
is,  that  afflictions  are  n  necessary  preparation  to  the 
heavenly  state.  "  If  so  be  that  we  sutfcr  with  Ilim,  that 
we  mav  be  also  o;lorified  toG^ether."  The  word  "  that  '^ 
at  the  beginning  of  the  second  clause  expresses  the  re- 


CROSS  AND  CROWN.  79 

suit  and  design,  i,  e.,  "  We  suffer  to  the  end,  that  we 
may  be  glorified  together." 

Now,  in  the  exposition  and  expansion  of  this  thought 
it  is  satisfactory  enough  just  to  show  that  God  even 
arbitrarily  had  connected  happiness  in  heaven  with  the 
endurance  of  earthly  tribulation.  There  are  a  thousand 
thino;s  bearino;  to  each  other  in  the  movements  of  God's 
administration,  theYelatiou  of  cause  and  effect,  or  of  de- 
sign and  result,  the  philosophy  of  whose  connection  we 
can  in  no  way  discover.  And  in  such  cases  it  is  quite 
enouo;h  to  be  assured  of  the  fact,  thouo-h  utterlv  at  faillt 
as  to  its  philosophy.  In  the  case  under  review  it  is 
quite  enough  for  one  practically  to  know,  that  by  an 
ordinance  of  God  the  heavenly  estate  is  to  be  attained 
through  much  tribulation;  that  between  the  estate  of 
man's  unstartled  carnalitv  and  heaven's  revealed  glories 
there  is  spread  a  dark  and  desolate  region,  over  which 
the  spiritual  pilgrim  must  find,  weeping  and  wearied,  his 
adventurous  way ;  that  the  Port  of  Peace  wherein  a  re- 
deemed soul  would  cast  anchor  for  eternity  lies  afar  off 
over  dark  and  stormy  seas*;  and  whether  or  not  I  can 
tell  why  God  hath  caused  so  fierce  a  sea  to  roll  around 
this  Isle  of  Bein<y,  it  is  enous-h  for  me  to  know  that  if 
I  would  gain  that  secure  and  peaceful  harborage,  I  must 
weigh  anchor  and  spread  sail  and  stand  out  in  staunch 
seamanship  over  against  blast  and  billow. 

Leaving  the  philosophy  to  take  care  of  itself,  the  fact 
is  that  about  which  there  can  be  no  question,  that  the 
way  unto  the  New  Jerusalem  lies  by  the  Garden  and 
the  Golgotha,  and  that  if  any  man  will  reign  with  Christ 
he  must  first  suffer  with  Him,  denying  himself  and  tak- 
ing up  his  cross  and  follovring  hard  after  Him,  attain- 


80  CROSS  AND  CROWN. 

ing  the  crown  as  Jesus  Himself  attained  it,  by  rough 
journeying  in  a  pathway  of  trials  and  temptations  and 
tears. 

But,  beloved,  though  for  all  practical  effects  the  simple 
knowledge  of  the  fact  would  suffice,  yet  much,  even 
of  the  philosophy,  is  not  at  all  beyond  us.  To  the  e^e, 
even  of  the  most  cursory  observation,  there  is  an  observ- 
able connection  between  the  endurance  of  affliction  and 
the  upgrowing  of  heavenly  graces  ;  and  not  only  are  we 
able  to  believe  the  truth  that  the  glorious  estate  of 
heaven  is  attained  thi-ough  much,  tribulation,  but  at 
least  partially  are  we  enabled  to  understand  how  it  is 
that  under  the  economy  of  the  spirit  these  light  afflic- 
tions, which  are  but  for  a  moment,  can  work  out  for  us 
a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory.  On 
this  point  we  remark, 

First.  That  ihe  effect  of  afflictions  is  the  dislodgement 
from  our  hearts  of  the  thousand  beautiful  forms  wherein 
the  world  solicits  our  worship  in  its  enmity  to  God. 
The  idolatries  of  the  world  are  the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  the 
lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life;  and  although 
there  is  no  power  at  all  in  the  ferocities  of  self-inflicted 
maceration  over  such  influences,  and  the  scorpion-scourge 
that  lashes  sin  out  of  its  strong  fastnesses  must  strike 
below  the  surface  and  reach  the  soul,  yet  such  a  power 
does  go  forth  with  the  infliction  of  heaven-directed 
chastisements. 

The  lust  of  the  flesh  !  What  field  or  facility  is  there 
for  its  mighty  ascendency,  where,  like  Job's,  with  his 
ashes  and  sackcloth,  the  body  lies  stricken  and  sore 
under  the  chastisements  of  the  paternal  rod  ?  The  lust 
of  the  eye !  What  possibility  of  bowing  down  in  deep  love 


CROSS  AND  CROWN.  81 

unto  the  idols  of  gold  and  jewels  and  vast  wealth,  when^ 
like  Lot  in  his  exodns  from  Sodom,  they  are  all  left, 
houses  and  gardens  and  homes,  with  the  fierce  kindlings 
of  heaven-sent  flames?  The  pride  of  life !  The  thirst  after 
the  honors  and  applauses  of  men,  ambition's  yearning 
for  the  grandeur  and  equipage  and  pomp  of  a  vain- 
glorious world  !  AVhat  field  for  it  to  bring  offerings  rich 
with  incense  and  golden  censors,  when  amid  the 
heavings  of  heaven's  earthfjnakes  the  temple  and  the 
altar  and  the  god  are  hurled  together  to  the  dust  ?  In 
a  word,  wl^ile  the  lash  of  a  self-inflicting  maceration 
may  be  nothing  more  than  a  straw  in  the  hand  of  a 
proud  carnality,  in  removing  sin  from  the  senses  to  the 
soul,  yet  in  my  Saviour's  hand  affliction  is  the  scourge 
of  small  cords,  driving  dove-sellers  and  money-changers 
from  God's  temple  in  the  heart. 

Second. — And  this  leads  me  to  remark,  secondly,  that 
temporal  afflictions  tend  not  only  to  weaken  the  do- 
minion of  sin  within  us,  but  tend,  also,  as  well,  to  in- 
vigorate the  growth  of  Christian  graces  in  the  souL 
The  field  here  open  to  our  consideration  is  too  wide 
even  for  the  most  cursory  illustration.  You  may  ex- 
patiate here  at  your  liesure,  and  will  not  fail  to  perceive 
how  every  spiritual  grace  groweth  grandly  under  the 
severest  appliance  of  affliction. 

1.  Take  humility,  that  grace  w^hich  in  a  contrast 
of  man  w^ith  his  Maker,  or  of  man's  present  w^ith  hfs 
primeval  glory,  brings  him  to  lie  in  low^  and  lovel}^ 
self-abasement  at  his  Maker's  feet,  and  tell  me  if,  like 
the  oak  amid  the  mountains,  it  shoots  not  downward  its 
roots  deepest  and  strongest  Avhen  beaten  by  the  clouds 
and  winds  and  storms  of  heaven. 


82  CROSS  AND  CROWN, 

Nebuchadnezzar  walked  royally  in  the  palace  of  his 
kingdom  of  Babylon,  and  lifted  up  his  voice  in  its 
height  and  his  liauglitiness,  and  said,  '^  Is  not  this  great 
Babylon  that  I  have  built  for  the  house  of  the  kingdom, 
by  the  might  of  my  power,  and  for  the  honor  of  my 
majesty  ?''  But  behold  !  driven  forth  by  the  rod  of 
chastisement,  herding  with  the  soulless  things  that  die, 
and  beaten  by  the  rain  and  dew  and  storms  of  heaven, 
he  lifteth  his  weeping  voice  to  heaven,  blessing  Him 
whose  dominion  is  above — an  everlasting  dominion — 
and  before  whom  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  are 
of  none  repute  and  vanity. 

2.  Or,  take  patience,  one  of  the  noblest  jewels  in 
the  diadem  of  Christian  graces,  whose  essence  is  sub- 
mission  to  the  Divine  will,  and  whose  whole  eifect  is  to 
lay  ns,  body  and  spirit  and  soul,  at  Jehovah's  feet;  and 
consistent  though  it  be  with  the  prayer  that  the  cup 
dregged  with  worm-wood  may  pass  away,  yet,  mingling 
always  with  the  entreaty  a  spirit  of  beautiful  resignation, 
"  Not  my  will,  but  Thine  be  done/'  And  how  seems  it 
possible  that  this  grace  can  thrive  w^ell  save  under  the 
stern  influences  of  disappointed  hopes  ?  Who  does  not 
perceive  at  a  glance,  as  clearly  philosophic  as  the  con- 
nection of  cause  and  eifect,  that  as  its  natural  result 
tribulation  worketh  patience?  Behold  yonder!  th3 
mother  has  returned  her  beloved  charge  unto  the 
Egyptian  princess  ;  and  Moses,  though  doubtless  a  true 
child  of  God,  yet,  grown  haughty  amid  the  gratification 
of  unrestrained  wealth,  rises  up  in  his  impatience  of 
Divine  delay  and  slays  the  aggressive  Egyptian. 

But  look  again  !  and  behold  how  in  every  hour  of 
his  long  wanderings  from  the  begun  Exodus    at    the 


CROSS  AND  CROWN.      ^  83 

Nile  to  the  completed  Exodus  at  the  Jordan ;  how, 
more  than  any  other  man,  perhaps,  that  has  lived,  his 
life  seems  crowned  with  the  delightful  manifestation  of 
patient  love ;  and  wonder  not  at  its  manifestation. 
For  forty  years  amid  ^the  wild  solitudes  of  Midlands 
deserts  hath  Moses  been  learning  in  the  school  of 
affliction  as  a  keeper  of  sheep. 

3.  Then  once  more,  for  though  the  principle  is  most 
true  in  respect  of  every  Christian  grace,  yet  our  limits 
forbid  further  enlargement  than  to  take  faith — a 
principle,  I  grant  you,  of  miraculous  implantation,  but 
dependent  for  its  vigorous  development  upon  the  uni- 
versal principles  of  grace-growing.  Take  faith,  and  see 
how  necessary  afflictions  are  to  its  vigorous  and  largest 
exercise.  Is  faith  a  reliance  on  Divine  care-taking  ?  Where 
meets  it  its  fullest  manifestation  ?  In  the  heart  of  a  rich 
disciple  whose  house  is  filled  with  a  prodigality  of  all 
the  good  things  of  earth  ?  or  in  the  heart  of  the  destitute 
disciple  who,  in  want  of  life's  commonest  enjoyments, 
knows  what  it  is,  in  the  uncertainty  of  literal  want,  to 
say,  '^  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread.'' 

Is  faith  an  abiding  sense  of  God's  presence  and  God's 
protection  ?  AYhere  can  you  find  it  in  such  beautiful  dis- 
plays as  when,  amid  the  darkness  and  desolation  of  life's 
desert  path,  the  stricken  child  perceives  that  he  should 
stray  forever  hopelessly  were  it  not  for  the  Father's 
guidance  and  guardianship  that  leads  him  on  ? 

Is  faith  the  substance  of  things  lioped  for  and  the  ev- 
idence of  things  unseen  ?  Where  towers  it  into  such 
colossal  stature  as  Avlien  under  the  dark  shadow  of  in- 
tense sufferings  ?  Of  things  present  and  things  visible 
there  is  not  one  to  mar  its  vision  and  divide  its  reorards. 


84  CROSS  AND  CROWN. 

And  thus  might  you  run  through  the  whole  catalogue 
of  Christian  graces  and  perceive  how  naturally  and  nec- 
essarily do  they  grow  in  strength  and  stature  under  the 
stern  discipline  of  sorrow,  and  how,  just  as  the  oak  tree 
is  storm-beaten  into  strength,  and  just  as  the  soldier  is 
fought  into  courage,  and  just  as  the  mariner  is  ship- 
wrecked and  tempest-tossed  into  seamanship,  just  so  is 
a  Christian  raised  into  the  stature  of  a  perfect  man  in 
Christ  Jesus  under  the  rugged  training  and  tutelage  of 
tears. 

And  this  leads  me  to  remark.  Thirdly^  That  temporal 
afflictions  tend  to  force  the  heart  away  from  the  things 
of  time,  and  fasten  it  on  the  nobler  things  of  eternity. 
God  made  earth  as  man's  permanent  abiding-place,  and 
in  the  fine  adaptation  of  its  counterpart  objects  to  man's 
internal  desires,  beautifully  was  it  fitted  to  become  his 
spot  of  constant  and  contented  inhabitation.  And  the 
process  whereby  his  affections  are  weaned  from  the  world, 
and  fastened  on  the  far-away  shores  of  immortality,  must 
be  like  the  processes  of  a  compelled  sailorship  in  a  hos- 
tile port,  tearing  the  bark  fiercely  from  its  moorings,  and 
driving  it  in  strong  tempests  to  sea  again.  And  thus  it 
is  that  the  abiding  and  earnest  desire  to  depart  and  be 
Avith  Christ  has  never  sprung  up  in  all  its  mastery,  save 
in  a  heart  despoiled  of  its  idols  by  the  iron  weight  of 
sorrow. 

Our  property  melts  away  amid  flames,  and  there,  stand- 
ing amid  the  ashes  of  our  cherished  things,  we  pine  for 
wealth  incorruptible  by  motli  and  rust.  Our  home  is 
spoiled  of  all  its  beautiful  influences,  and  then,  in  the  soli- 
tude of  its  forsaken  hearth,  we  sigh  for  the  social  circles 
of  the  "  Many  mansions  in  our  Father\s  house,''  our  dear 


CR  OSS  AND  CR  O  WN.  85 

friends  whose  names  are  wj'itten  on  the  purest  tablet  of 
the  heart.  They  pine  away  from  our  bosoms,  and  droop 
and  die;  and  then,  standing  in  wild  anguish  by  their 
beloved  graves,  we  mourn  for  an  ascension  to  that  bright 
world  where  partings  are  forever  unknown  and  Death, 
in  his  dread  and  desolating  grandeur,  is  for  aye  a  mem- 
ory, and  never  more  an  anticipation.  And  thus  by  a 
process  purely  philosophical,  and  everywhere  acted  on, 
does  the  great  God  beget  in  His  children  a  longing  for 
heaven.  Go  out  to-night  and  look  at  the  stars,  that  stud 
in  marshalled  glory  the  azure  vault ;  and  what  causes 
them  thus  to  burn  and  brighten  ?  Why,  darkness — the 
shadow  of  a  deep  night  on  all  the  beautiful  things  of 
sunlit  vision.  And  as  in  the  material,  so  in  the  moral 
world.  If  mortal  men  have  looked  toward  heaven,  and 
beheld  its  unfolding  glories  coming  out  star  by  star  as 
orbs  at  eventide,  it  has  been  when  the  shadows  of  earthly 
sorrow  brooded  in  solemn  midnight  over  house  and 
heart. 

Now,  our  limits  forbid  that  we  should  dwell  a  moment 
longer  on  this  first  point  of  the  text.  Christians  should 
not  despond  in  the  midst  of  afflictions,  because  they  fur- 
nish a  necessary  preparation  for  the  heavenly  state. 

And  we  go  on  very  briefly  to  consider  the  second 
great  reason  which  our  text  sets  forth  for  consolation 
in  affliction,  namely,  That  in  contrast  with  the  glories 
which  they  tend  to  work  out  they  are  worthy  of  no  con- 
sideration. 

^'  For  I  reckon,"  etc.  The  word  "  reckon'^  is  tech- 
nical. It  means  to  compute  arithmetically.  Paul  asserts 
that  coolly  and  carefully  he  had  held  them  in  merchant- 
like contrast,  and  verily  he  was  of  all  men  best  prepared 


86  CROSS  AND  CROWN. 

for  such  a  reckoning.  The  sufferings  of  the  present 
evil  world  !  In  them  who  hath  matched  Him  ?  *^  In 
labors  most  abundant,  in  stripes  above  measure,  in 
prisons  most  frequent,  in  death  oft.  Of  the  Jews  five 
times  received  he  forty  stripes,  save  one ;  thrice  was  he 
beaten  of  rods ;  once  was  he  stoned  ;  thrice  suffered  he 
shipwreck  ;  a  night  and  a  day  had  he  been  on  the  deep. 
In  journeyings  often,  in  perils  of  waters,  in  perils  of 
robbers,  in  perils  of  his  own  countrymen,  in  perils  by 
the  heathen,  in  perils  in  the  city,  in  perils  in  the  wilder- 
ness, in  perils  on  the  sea,  in  perils  among  false  brethren ! 
In  weariness  and  painfulness  and  watching  often,  in 
hunger  and  thirst  and  fastings  often,  in  cold  and  naked- 
ness and  dungeons  and  deaths  !  Thus  understood  he 
better  than  other  men  Avhat  were  the  realities  of  the  suf- 
ferings of  the  present  time. 

And  of  the  glories  which  are  to  be  revealed  !  Too 
wonderful  to  tell  them  had  he  witnessed.  Whether  in 
the  body  or  out  of  the  body  he  knew  not,  and  it  mattered 
not.  But  caught  up  to  the  third  heaven,  and  listening 
to  the  unutterable  words,  and  gazing  upon  the  transcen- 
dent visions  of  grandeur  and  glory  that  burst  in  that 
high  dwelling  of  the  God  of  gods,  he  had  descended 
again  to  Avalk,  a  living  man,  among  the  gilded  toys  for 
which  livino^  and  dvino;  men  barter  their  eternitv.  And 
though  never  for  a  moment  does  lie  attempt  a  revelation ; 
and  I  thank  God  for  it,  because  an  attempt  to  describe 
presupposes  the  possibility  of  descri})tion,  and,  until 
this  mortal  shall  put  on  its  immortalltv,  I  would  have 
heaven  hidden,  not  by  a  veil  of  darkness,  but  by  the 
depth  of  its  own  unapproachable  and  perfect  glory. 
Though  never  for  a  moment,  I  say,  did  he  attempt  a 


CR  OSS  AND  CR  O  WN.  87 

revelation  of  the  sights  that  he  saw  and  the  words  that 
he  heard,  yet  one  thing  at  least  did  he.  He  ^^reckoned."' 
Under  the  full  beatitudes  of  their  abiding  memory  he 
contrasted  them  with  his  present  suffering,  yea,  with  the 
pencil  of  arithmetical  calculation  he  sat  down,  subtract- 
ing the  one  from  the  other,  counting  afflictions  as  the 
human  price  paid,  and  glory  as  the  Divine  inheritance 
given.  And  then  and  there  he  reckoned  that  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  present  world  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared! 
with  the  glories  which  are  to  be  revealed  in  us.  And 
who  dare  gainsay  his  reckoning?  Who  so  well  as  Paul 
knew  whether  these  light  afflictions,  which  are  for  a 
season,  shall  work  out  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and 
eternal  weight  of  glory  ? 

My  brother,  are  you  in  poverty  ?  AVell,  it  is  neces- 
sary often  that  a  Christian  should  be  thus.  We  are  pil- 
grims journeying  towards  heaven,  and  what  we  need  is,  not 
the  palace  reared  in  strength  and  the  gold  hoarded  in 
coffers.  No !  no  !  AYe  need  the  leathern  girdle  about 
the  loins  and  the  scrip  with  the  water-cruse,  and  the  tent 
to  be  stricken  lightly  at  rise  of  sun — God,  who  knows 
well,  sees  it  best  for  you  to  be  poor. 

But  this  is  the  question — What  is  the  pressure  of  your 
present  wants,  compared  with  the  prodigality  of  your 
hastening  allotments  ?  Oh,  those  treasures  in  heaven  I 
Gold  inalienable,  garments  incorruptible !  Tell  us,, 
what  meaneth  it,  ye  risen  dead?  To  be  joint  heirs  with 
Christ  unto  an  inheritance  incorruptible  and  undefiled. 

Or  are  you  despised,  my  brother  ?  Do  the  rich  and 
the  gifted  frown  on  you  as  on  an  outcast  ?  And  has 
your  offering  been  that  richer  thing  than  of  worldly 
wealth — the  sacrifice   of    reputation   on  God's    altar  ? 


88  CROSS  AND  CROWN. 

Well,  be  it  so.  Ye  are  in  an  enemy's  country,  and  what 
right  to  expect  other  treatment  than  of  strangers  and 
spies?  But,  then,  this  is  the  question — How  are  these 
sneers  and  reviling  of  dying  worms  to  be  compared  with 
the  glorious  and  triumphant  welcome  that  shall  peal  forth 
around  you  as  ye  get  home  yonder  by  the  streams  of  life  ? 

Have  you  lost  friends  ?  Is  the  home  deserted?  Is 
the  soul  prostrate  and  the  heart  desolate  in  its  longings 
for  the  beloved  ones?  Well,  God  help  you,  brothers! 
If  there  be  one  starless  standpoint  in  this  night  of  storms, 
it  is  by  the  cold  grave  whereunto  have  gone  down  the 
beautiful,  the  cherished  dead.  Yet  it  is  well  even  thus 
to  be  stricken.  The  tie  which  bindeth  heart  to  heart 
links  sometimes  an  iron  bondage  between  the  soul  and 
lieaven. 

And  all  this  is  the  question — What,  with  all  its  ago- 
nies, is  the  hour  of  bitter  parting  on  earth  to  compare 
with  the  hour  of  everlasting  meeting  in  that  heavenly 
home  ?  Ah  !  and  that  other  sorest  of  all  earthly  tribu- 
lations—death !  Yes,  you  must  die,  my  brother,  soon, 
verv  soon.  Already,  it  may  be,  angels  are  on  the  way 
from  yon  bright  world  to  stand  in  your  dying  chamber  ; 
and  ere  we  meet  again  in  God's  temple,  you  may  feel  it 
— all  the  awful  strife  and  agony  of  death.  And  truly 
it  is  dreadful.  God  forbid  I  speak  kindly  of  a  monster 
Avhose  iron  foot,  in  its  desolating  majesty,  is  on  every 
iieart.  God  meant  us  to  f^ar  death,  that  we  may  get 
ready  to  die.  But  this  is  the  question — Let  the  grim 
monster  come  in  all  the  terrors  of  his  array  of  darkness, 
yet,  after  ail,  wliat  reckon  you  ?  That  the  terrors  of  an 
earthly  death  can  be  compared  with  the  higher  triumphs 
of  a  life  eternal  ? 


CROSS  AND  CROWN.        .  89 

Beloved,  we  can  not  continue  further  the  contrast.  On 
such  a  theme  we  feel  as  the  Disciples  felt  on  the  Galilean 
mountains,  looking  up  into  heaven,  all  light  with  the 
revealed  glory  of  their  ascended  Saviour.  We  know 
not  what  we  shall  be.  The  curtain  lifts  not  yet.  The 
unspeakable  words  thrill  not  these  stranger  airs.  This 
only  do  we  know,  that  dark  as  may  be  our  present  allot- 
ments, they  are  but  the  storm-beatings  into  seaman- 
ship of  the  spirit  homeward  bound  over  the  waters. 
We  know  that  these  light  afflictions  that  are  for  a  season 
shall  work  out  for  us  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal 
weight  of  glory ;  and,  knowing  this,  we  urge  you  w^ith  all 
the  tears  of  our  hearts,  that  if  ye  are  not  yet  Christians, 
ye  tear  yourselves  away  at  once  from  these  earthly  en- 
tanglements that  lead  to  death,  and  if  you  are  Christians, 
ye  give  yourselves  more  earnestly  and  ardently  unto  Gos- 
2)el  faith  and  Gospel  following.  Oh !  there  is  might  and 
motive  and  majesty  in  Paul's  glowing  arguments.  As 
that  which  is  an  affliction,  and  an  affliction  for  a  moment, 
and  a  light  affliction  for  a  moment,  can  weigh  little  in 
the  contrast  of  that  which  is  a  glory,  {.  e.,  the  burning 
magnificence  of  heaven,  yea,  a  weight  of  glory,  yea,  an 
exceeding  Aveight  of  glory,  yea,  a  far  more  exceeding 
weight  of  glory,  yea,  a  far  more  exceeding  and  eternal 
weight  of  glory,  so  the  folly  of  that  man  who  loses  the 
whole  world  is  infinite  wisdom  in  contrast  with  him  who 
loses  his  soul. 

And  here  we  leave  you  amid  the  scenery  of  the  i^ni. 
Behold  Paul's  bark  anchored  at  its  earthly  moorings ! 
And  he,  aged  and  withered  and  weak,  yet  with  his  skill 
of  eternal  reckonings  all  unimpaired,  sitteth  on  the 
vessel's  deck  to  calculate  the  gains  and  the  losses  of  his 


90  •       CROSS  AA^D  CROWN. 

contemplated  voyage.  Before  him — ah !  lie  knew  it  well, 
for  he  had  been  out  amid  its  hurricanes ;  before  him  spread 
an  ocean  arched  with  angry  skies,  and  swept  by  mighty 
winds,  and  wrought  upon  tempestuously  by  strife  and 
storm.  And  had  he  known  no  more,  that  bark  would 
have  decayed  piece-meal  in  the  soundings  of  this  niortal 
shore.  But  more  he  does  know.  He  is  thinking  of  the 
bright  land  beyond  the  islands  of  the  blessed  that  smile 
in  glorious  beauty  beyond,  beyond. 

And  behold !  he  rises  from  his  reckonings  in  the 
glorious  ambition  of  a  high  seamanship;  his  heart 
boundeth  ;  his  eye  flashes  ;  he  hath  immortal  longings. 
He  is  in  a  strait,  to  weigh  anchor  and  spread  sail  and 
stand  out  for  eternity. 


GOD'S  FORBEARANCE. 


"  IF/io  can  tell  if  God  will  turn  and  repent  and  turn  away  from 
His  fierce  anger,  that  we  perish  not  ^^ — Jonah  in.  9. 

The  duty  of  observing  national  fasts  in  times  of  great 
national  peril  is  plainly  taught  in  God's  Word  ;  and 
the  Divine  blessing  which  attended  them,  even  in  cases 
not  specifically  commended  by  God,  gave  to  the  human 
authority  appointing  them  an  implied  Divine  sanction. 
The  recorded  fasts  of  Israel,  when  defeated  by  the  men 
of  Ai ;  of  Ahab,  when  denounced  by  tlie  prophet  Eli- 
jah ;  of  Jehoshaphat,  when  assaulted  by  the  confederate 
forces  of  Ammon  and  Moab  ;  of  Nineveh,  when  visited 
by  Jonah  ;  of  the  Jews  in  Shushan,  and  the  returning 
captives  at  the  river  Ahava;  all  illustrate  this  truth. 
In  every  one  of  those  cases  the  manifest  blessing  of 
God  attended  the  exercise  of  fasting.  Jehovah  merci- 
fully interposed  in  behalf  of  the  penitent,  "  to  give 
beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourning,  and  the 
garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of  heaviness." 

On  fitting  occasions,  and  in  a  fitting  spirit,  therefore, 
the  appointment  by  rulers  and  governors  of  days  of 
national  humiliation  comes  with  the  full  force  of  a 
Divine  sanction.  And  it  can  not  but  be  acceptable  to 
God — this  public  acknowledgment  on  the  part  of  our 
highest  national  authority  of  a  power  still  infinitely 
above  it,  unto  which  all  human  government  is  alike 
subservient  and  accountable.  And,  even  amid  all  the 
mournf  ulness  of  the  occasion,  very  cheering  it  is  to  the 


<J2  GOD'S  FORBEARANCE. 

pious  heart  to  witness  this  public  acknowledgment  that 
against  God  we  have  sinned  and  from  His  judgments 
are  we  suffering.  And  from  this  national  recognition 
of  the  fact  that  in  our  present  exigencies  Omniscience 
can  alone  guide,  and  Omnipotence  alone  save  us, 
does  our  faith  grow  strong,  that  God  has  not  yet  cast  us 
off  forever,  but  will  mercifully  interpose,  as  of  old,  to 
preserve  and  bless  a  repentant  people. 

But  in  order  that  this  national  act  may  secure  Divine 
forgiveness  for  the  past,  and  favor  for  the  future,  it 
must  be  thoroughly  and  unfeignedly  what  it  purports 
to  be — a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer  and  humiliation 
before  God  for  our  national  iniquities. 

And  if,  instead  of  this,  it  shall  be  made  the  occasion 
to  disseminate  pai'tisan  political  opinions,  or  to  appeal 
unto  selfish  and  malignant  instincts — of  uncharitable 
criticisms  and  criminations — to  discourse  of  and  deal 
with  other  men's  sins  rather  than  our  own,  carrying  our 
lighted  candles  in  our  search  after  evil  leaven  away 
from  our  own  houses  into  the  dark  corners  of  the  dwell- 
ings of  our  neighbors.  If  in  such  a  spirit  our  part  be 
performed,  then  will  the  occasion  only  aggravate  the 
evil,  and  by  our  hypocrisy  and  self-righteousness  we 
shall  incense  still  more  deeply  the  Infinite  Jehovah. 

Nor  are  we  here  merely  to  confess  indiscriminately, 
and  in  a  general  way,  our  own  national  sins.  Our 
business  is  to  consider  in  particular  such  sins  as  God 
seems  now  threatening  signally  to  punish,  i.  «.,  those 
acts  of  iniquity  which  in  the  manifest  working  of 
Providence  seem,  in  the  relation  of  antecedents  and 
consequents,  to  have  brought  us  as  a  nation  into  our 
present  imminent   peril.     We   are,  of  course,   not  un- 


GOD'S  FORBEARANCE.  &3 

mindful  that  all  sins  are  occasions  of  Divine  displeasure. 
Nevertheless,  we  are  as  well  to  remember  here,  that 
particular  sins  receive  at  God's  hand  special  punish- 
ment; and  so  intimate  and  apparent,  for  the  most  part, 
is  the  connection  between  the  sin  and  its  punishment, 
that  seldom  in  any  given  case  are  we  left  in  doubt  as  to 
the  iniquity  for  which  in  that  instance  we  are  suffering 
chastisement. 

An  intemperate  man  may  be,  the  while,  a  dishonest  or 
impure  man.  But  while  he  is  suifering  the  terrible 
delirium  that  comes  from  strong  drink,  we  feel  that  it 
is  especially  for  his  drunkenness  God  is  then  punishing 
him.  And  as  of  individuals,  so  of  nations ;  in  particular 
ways  and  times  God  visits  and  punishes  particular  sins. 
And  we  repeat  it,  on  occasions  like  this  of  public 
humiliation,  we  are  chiefly  called  to  understand  and 
repent  of  these  special  sins  whose  evil  influences  we  are 
at  the  time  experiencing. 

It  is,  indeed,  right  and  befitting  on  this  day  to 
acknowledge  and  bemoan  all  our  manifold  offences. 
Truly  in  many  ways  and  times  are  we  before  God  a 
most  guilty  people.  There  is  not  a  precept  of  the 
Divine  law  thundered  from  Sinai  that  lies  not  this  day 
under  our  feet,  broken  and  dishonored,  as  the  Word  of 
an  insulted  and  despised  Jehovah. 

We  have  had  other  gods  before  Him.  And  our 
manifold  and  multiplied  forms  of  national  idolatrv  have 
cried  as  loudly  against  us  unto .  heaven,  as  if  we  had 
built  glorious  shrines  unto  false  gods,  and  burnt  thereat 
costly  sacrifices  in  a  ritual  of  false  worship. 

We  have  taken  the  name  of  the  Lord  our  God  in 
vain.     Profane   swearing   has  come  to  be  regarded  as 


94  GOD'S  FORBEARANCE. 

American  rhetoric ;  and  every  breeze  of  heaven  that 
comes  from  tlie  Divine  hand,  odorous  of  blessing,  bears 
back  unto  the  ear  of  God  its  foul  burden  of  blasphemy. 

We  do  not  remember  tlie  Sabbath  Day  to  keep  it 
holy.  That  season  of  heavenly  rest  lies,  as  an  outcast 
thing,  broken  down  in  our  streets  ;  and  creation  groaneth 
and  travaileth  in  the  unwilling  bondage  wherewith  we 
are  compelling  even  its  brute  elements  to  profane  God^s 
Holy  Day. 

We  do  not  honor  father  and  mother.  That  filial 
reverence  and  love  which,  as  the  primitive  form  of 
obedience  to  authority,  lies  at  the  foundation  of  social 
and  governmental  prosperity,  hath  become  a  thing  old- 
fashioned  and  obsolete,  and  is  looked  for  almost  in  vain 
amid  our  land's  youthful  and  restless  and  irreverent 
impatience. 

We  do  commit  adultery,  till  the  cheek  of  purity 
burns  in  places  of  public  concourse,  and  the  heart  of 
faith  looks  almost  for  the  very  judgment  of  fire  that 
came  down  upon  Sodom. 

We  do  bear  false  witness.  Slander,  falsehood,  per- 
jury in  high  and  low  places,  are  dark  threads  woven  in 
the  very  woof  of  our  social  life,  until  our  grand  national 
boast  and  once  glory  of  free  speech  and  a  free  press  have 
become  an  abomination  and  a  curse,  as  an  unrestrained 
and  infamous  license  to  abuse  and  injure  our  fellow 
men. 

We  do  kill,  till  the  blood  of  murdered  men  cries  out 
against  us  from  every  city  street  and  every  by-way  in 
the  wilderness. 

We  do  steal,  till  popular  dishonesty,  under  its  A-arious 
forms  of  defalcations   and   assio^nments  and  extensions 


GOVS  FORBEARANCE.  95 

and  compromises,  hath  so  destroyed  the  old-fashioned 
faith  in  men,  that  every  social  or  political  influence 
which  wakes  a  ripple  in  the  waters  of  commerce,  begets 
a  panic  and  a  crisis,  wherein  all  confidence  is  unhinged 
and  all  credit  shipwrecked. 

We  do  covet,  so  that  to  become  rich  is  the  absorbing 
desire  of  American  life.  And  the  stronger  pulses  of 
the  American  heart  and  conscience  can  be  felt  only  in 
the  great  tides  of  commerce. 

All  these  thino-s  in  their  most  manifest  and  heinous 
forms  are  we  doing,  until  our  national  attitude  before 
God  is  that  of  a  young  giant,  fieated  with  wine,  stand- 
ing with  his  bold  face  against  the  heavens  and  his  feet 
trampling  God's  broken  tables  in  the  dust  in  mockery 
and  despisal.  And  for  all  these  things  humiliation  and 
true  penitence  do  manifestly  become  us.  God  is  angry 
with  us,  and  it  is  time  that  we  paused  in  the  madness  of 
our  national  impiety,  and  with  keen  apprehension  of  Di- 
vine anger,  sought  by  tears  of  Godly  sorrow  and  deeds  of 
active  obedience,  to  avert  from  our  national  life  the  just 
judgments  of  God.  Of  all  these  popular  sins  there 
should  be  this  day  sorrowful  remembrance  and  sincere 
acknowledgment  in  our  approaches  unto  'God.  For 
doutless  all  these  iniquities  have  conspired  to  kindle  His 
indignation,  as  He  casts  on  us,  even  now,  the  frown  of 
His  awful  face  and  terrifies  us  with  fears  of  His  awful 
displeasure. 

But  while  considering  thus  generally  our  national 
iniquities,  on  a  day  like  this,  appointed  with  a  special 
reference,  it  is  our  more  personal  duty  to  consider  those 
particular  sins  which  God  is  now  especially  threatening  to 
punish,  ?.  e.y  those  sinful  actions  which  in  the  economy  of 


96  GOD'S  FORBEARANCE, 

Diviue  Providence  seem  to  have  brought  ns,  as  a  nation, 
into  our  present  exigence  of  peril ;  and  surely  on  this  point 
there  is  no  room  for  misapprehension.  The  least  phil- 
osophic mind  in  our  midst  perceives  at  a  glance  the  cause 
and  character  of  the  present  crisis ;  and  our  service  in 
God's  house  to-day  will  be  a  failure,  nay,  more,  an  of- 
fence and  provocation,  if  we  shrink  from  looking  at  this 
whole  matter  honestly,  examining  as  Christians  and  con- 
scientious men  the  cause  of  our  distress,  and  seeking  to 
learn  our  duties  and  repent  of  our  sins  in  regard  of  it. 

Now,  confessedly,  on  ^11  hands,  we  have  been  brought 
into  our  present  condition  of  distress  and  alarm  because 
of  our  attitudes  and  actions  in  regard,  in  one  way  or 
another,  of  this  simple  thing — slavery.  But  for  this  we 
should  unquestionably  be  this  day,  throughout  our  entire 
borders,  the  most  prosperous  and  happy  of  all  nations 
upon  earth.  And  the  strange  fact,  that  at  the  close  of  a 
year  almost  unexampled  in  its  abundant  material  of 
prosperity,  we  find  ourselves  in  a  crisis  of  pecuniary  dis- 
tress and  political  convulsion  that  has  had  no  parallel  in 
our  history.  This  strange  fact,  I  say,  we  all  perceive  to 
have  resulted  directly  from  our  acts  and  attitudes  in  ref- 
erei^ce  to  slavery.  For  these  God  in  His  Providence  is 
manifestly  distressing  us,  and  our  business  should  be  to 
discover,  if  possible,  wherein  in  this  matter  we  have 
sinned. 

Now,  on  this  point  there  is  a  class  of  moralists  among  us 
who  dispose  of  this  whole  question  quite  summarily,  and 
to  themselves  satisfactorily,  by  declaring  that  this  thing 
— slavery — is  itself  the  sin  w^ith  which  God  is  angry  and 
for  which  He  is  distressing  us.  In  our  permission  of 
this  holding  property  in   man,  say  these  men,  we  are 


GOD'S  FORBEARANCE.  97 

showing  ourselves  a  nation  of  (tppressors,  and  therefore 
God  is  rising  up  to  dasli  us  in  pieces,  as  a  })Otter's  ves- 
sel. And  if  this  explanation  be  true,  then  is  our  whole 
duty  ])lain  ;  and  as  we  would  escape  the  threatened  de- 
struction, we  must,  at  all  events  and  at  any  cost,  get  rid 
of  this  national  iniquity.  For  we  have  not  assembled 
this  day  as  statesmen,  seeking  to  perpetuate  forms  of 
national  life  by  political  expedients,  but  as  Christian  men, 
anxious  by  penitential  tears  and  turnings-away  from 
iniquities  to  appease  Divine  anger  and  escape  the  just 
judgments  of  God. 

If  slavery  be  the  great  national  iniquity  Avhose  pro- 
tection under  our  Constitution  is  so  offensive  to  God, 
then  it  is  our  duty,  a  duty  on  which  our  future  destiny 
depends,  and  which  God  >vill  assuredly  bless  us  in  per- 
forming, to  rise  up  and  declare  as  Christian  and  confed- 
erate States,  that  we  will  abide  by  no  Constitution  which 
recognizes  and  protects  it. 

But^  then,  honestly  and  calmly  considered,  is  this 
thing  so?  And,  without  protracted  or  philosophic  ar- 
gument, we  answer  the  whole  question  unhesitatingly  in 
the  negative. 

God  has  never  destroyed  nations,  and  never  will,  for 
any  acts  which  He  has  not  Himself  plainly  forbidden, 
nay,  which  He  has  not  fearfully  denounced  as  abomina- 
bly sinful.  And  with  regard  to  this  whole  matter  of 
slavery,  it  suffices  for  our  present  purpose  to  say,  as  lias 
been  unanswerably  a  thousand  times  before,  that  God 
has  never  forbidden  it  or  declared  that  it  is  sinful ;  yea, 
rather  may  we  say  that  the  Bible  abundantly  leads  us  to 
believe  that  He  does  not  so  regard  it.  The  Divine 
treatment  of  positive  sin  is  never  to  permit  it  unrebuked, 


98  GOD'S  FORBEARANCE, 

never,  indeed,  to  legislate  about  it^  but  peremptorily 
and  at  once  to  denounce  and  forbid  it.  God  does  not 
say,  "  Thou  shalt  not  lie  or  steal  or  covet  or  kill  or  com- 
mit adultery,  except  in  certain  cases  and  under  specified 
conditions ;  but  by  a  broad,  sweeping,  uncompromising 
negation  denounces  each  and  all  such  acts  at  once  and 
forever. 

But  in  regard  of  this  holding  men  in  involuntary  ser- 
vitude God  has  expressly  permitted  and  legislated  for  it, 
saying  to  old  Israel,  by  the  mouth  of  His  servant  Moses, 
^^Of  the  heathen  that  are  round  about  you,  shall  ye  buy 
bondmen  and  bondmaids,  and  they  shall  be  your  posses- 
sion, and  ye  shall  take  them  as  an  inheritance  for  your 
children  after  you,  to  inherit  them  as  a  possession;  they 
shall  be  your  bondmen  forever."  Saying,  moreover,  to 
the  Christian  Church  of  all  time  by  the  mouth  of  His 
servant  Paul,  "  Let  as  many  servants  as  are  under  the 
yoke  count  their  masters  worthy  of  all  honor,  that  the 
name  of  God  and  His  doctrine  be  not  blasphemed." 

Now,  these  passages,  with  all  their  numerous  parallels, 
coupled  with  the  fact  that  both  Testiiments  were  written 
in  the  midst  of  involuntary  slavery.  And  yet,  neither 
in  the  old  nor  the  new  is  it  anywhere  either  forbidden  or 
denounced  as  sinful.  Settling  at  least  this  point  satisfactor- 
ily to  all  who  take  the  Bible  as  a  rule  of  faith  and  prac- 
tice, that  it  is  not  the  simple  existence  of  slavery  in  our 
nation  which  has  excited  God's  anger.  And  the  evil 
thing  must  be  found  in  our  own  acts  and  attitudes  in  re- 
gard of  it. 

Wherein,  then,  have  we  sinned  in  these  acts  and  atti- 
tudes ?  And  in  answering  this  question  we  are  hei  e  to 
consider  our  own  sins,  and  not  those   of    otner  iL^in. 


GOUS  FORBEARANCE.  99 

Were  we  keeping  fast  to-day  in  a  Southern  sanctuary, 
and  were  the  speaker  addressing  a  congregation  of  slave- 
holders, he  would  regard  it  as  liis  duty,  as  God  gave 
him  grace,  fearlessly  to  be  fulfilled,  to  descant  only 
upon  the  iniquities  then  and  there  abounding.  He 
would  not  waste  precious  moments  in  enlightening  their 
consciences  as  to  other  men's  sins ;  and  if  he  knew  m 
those  communities  of  abuses  of  power  and  prerogative  ; 
of  slave-holding  characterized  by  cruelty  and  oppression 
and  impurity ;  of  State  laws  that  are  iniquitous,  and 
social  customs  that  are  monstrous  ;  of  acts  and  attitudes 
in  regard  of  this  institution  justly  exciting  the  indigna- 
tion of  the  Christian  and  civilized  world  ;  or  if  there 
were  manifest,  in  their  relation  to  other  States,  a  vrant 
of  brotherly  kindness  and  courtesy  and  forbearance,  or  of 
honest  loyalty  to  our  national  Constitution  ;  if  ambitious 
place-men  were  seeking  to  kindle  strife,  and  Christian 
ministers  were  daring  to  preach  treason  and  Christian 
men  to  pray  for  treason  in  God's  sanctuary,  then,  I  say, 
would  the  speaker,  as  he  looked  for  favor  from  God, 
lift  up  his  voice  in  earnest  rebuke  of  the  sin  and  in 
tearful  entreaties  unto  repentance. 

But  I  am  not  in  such  a  presence,  not  addressing  such 
men.  With  these  sins  in  this  day  of  humiliation  we  have 
no  personal  concern.  Our  duty  as  Christians  is  with  our 
personal  iniquities.  Wherein,  then,  have  we  sinned  in 
regard  of  this  thing — slavery?  And  I  answer — 

jp//*.sf,  and  as  the  foundation  of  all  our  other  practical 
errors.  We  have  manifested  a  disposition  which  Paul  in 
respect  of  wickedness  ranks  with  that  of  the  thief  and 
the  malefactor  and  the  murderer,  {,  e.,  we  have  made 
ourselves  *'  busv-bodies  in  other  men's  matters.'^   What- 


100  GOD'S  FORBEARANCE. 

ever  may  be  our  individual  opinion  of  slavery,  we  have 
110  more  concern  with  Southern  slave-holding  than  with 
Russian  serfdom.  To  it  we  hav^e  no  relation,  and  in 
regard  of  it  sustain  no  responsibility  ;  and  while  mani- 
fold and  monstrous  social  evils  exist  in  our  very  midst,, 
for  Avhich  God  holds  iis  responsible  in  wasting  our 
sympathies  in  this  direction,  we  have  subjected  ourselves 
to  the  severe  rebuke  of  oui?  Lord,  as  hypocrites  laboring 
with  the  mote  in  a  brother's  eye  with  a  beam  in  their 
own ;  yea,  to  the  more  tremendous  rebuke  of  His 
example,  who,  spending  His  whole  earthly  life  in  the 
midst  of  those  despotic  forms  of  slavery,  uttered  against 
it  no  word  either  of  reproof  or  denunciation. 

Meanwhile,  Secondly.  Nut  satisfied  with  this  constant 
intermeddling  with  what  in  no  way  concerns  us,  we 
have  pursued  our  work  with  the  very  worst  and  most 
wicked  spirit.  Ignoring  all  the  meekness  and  gentleness 
Avherewith  true  piety  labors  to  reform  and  bless  man- 
kind, we  have  launched  against  our  Christian  brethren 
of  the  South  arrows  poisoned  w^ith  the  venom  of  most 
malignant  passion.  The  vocabulary  of  abuse  has  been 
exhausted  in  the  taunt  and  vituperation  and  invective 
wherewith  we  have  assaulted  Christian  men  and  Chris- 
tian Churches  as  dear  as  ourselves  unto  the  heart  of 
Christ. 

Nor  this  the  worst,  for,  Thirdly.  ,  AVe  have  in  this 
matter,  in  its  most  inexcusable  and  intolerable  form, 
borne  false  witness  against  our  brethren,  because  this, 
like  every  social  institution,  is  liable  to  abuse,  and  has 
practically  been  abused.  And  there  have  been  cruel 
and  unjust  masters,  as  there  have  been  unjust  and  cruel 
parents  and  magistrates.    We  have  carefully  searched  out 


GOD'S  FORBEARANCE.  101 

these  casual  enormities,  and  declared  them  essential  to  the 
system,  and  denounced  all  slave-holders  as  living  in 
shameless  sin,  and  guilty  before  God  of  the  most  abom- 
inable iniquities.  And  on  this  point  are  we  perfectly 
confident  that  of  all  instances  of  unscrupulous  and  per- 
sistent evil-speaking  the  world  has  ever  witnessed  there 
can  l)e  found  nothing  to  compare  with  the  malignant 
misrepresentation  our  Southern  brethren  in  Christ  have 
received  at  the  hands  of  nominal  Christians  at  the 
North.  We  may  not,  indeed,  all  have  been  engaged  in 
this  work,  but  we  have  all  been  partners  in  the  iniquity, 
l)y  suffering  it  unrebuked  in  our  midst,  yea,  by  protect- 
ing and  encouraging  it,  indeed,  under  the  plausible  plea  of 
maintaining  inviolate  ''  freedom  of  the  press  and  of 
speech  "  as  a  grand  prerogative  of  freemen,  as  if  per- 
sonal liberty  involved  a  license  to  utter,  regardless  of 
truth  and  of  consequences,  at  all  times  and  jn  all  places, 
whatsoever  of  evil  thought  may  be  inspired  by  malig- 
nant passion ;  a  license  incompatible  with  all  higher 
personal  rights  and  all  general  social  welfare,  and 
therefore  no  more  to  be  protected  or  tolerated  than  a 
license  to  fling  fire-brands  into  our  houses  and  plunge 
daggers  into  our  hearts  ;  a  license,  moreover,  which  the 
Word  of  God  most  emphatically  denounces,  declaring 
that  '^  the  tono-ue,"  unrestrained  in  its  licentious  utter- 
ancc,  is  one  of  the  sorest  of  social  evils — "  a  world  of 
iniquity,  defiling  the  whole  body,  setting  fire  to  the 
course  of  nature,  and  itself  set  on  fire  of  hell." 

]^ow,  these  are  some  of  the  wrongs  we  have  been 
guilty  of  in  the  matter  under  review,  and  manifestly 
out  of  these  wrongs  have  sprung  our  present  difficulties. 
This  spirit  of  self-righteousness  and    un charitableness 


102  GOD'S  FORBEARANCE, 

and  false-witness  has  been  steadily  waxing  mighty  in  our 
midst.  Enterino^,  year  after  year,  more  and  more  as  a  con- 
troling  po\yer  into  our  politics,  and  a  disturbing  force 
Into  our  religion,  it  has  destroyed  the  old  parties  in  the 
State  and  broken  in  two  the  great  Christian  denomi- 
nations of  the  Church,  till,  culminating  in  a  fierce 
national  controversy,  it  has  brought  us  this  day,  as 
incensed  and  belligerent  sections,  upon  the  very  verge 
of  national  destruction.  For  such  evil  acts  and  in- 
fluences, so  far  as  they  have  been  ours,  wx  are  this  day 
penitentially  to  humble  ourselves  before  God,  following 
in  this  regard  the  Apostolic  rule — ^'  To  cease  to  do  evil, 
and  leani  to  do  well  " — not  thinking  to  excuse  our 
wrong  doing  by  that  of  other  men,  but,  leaving  them 
to  bear  the  burden  and  meet  the  issues  of  their  own 
Iniquities,  to  set  ourselves  right  in  this  matter  with  our 
own  consciences  and  in  the  sight  of  men  and  before 
God,  assured  that  when  we  have  done  this,  and  then 
only,  can  we  with  any  well-founded  faith  look  for  that 
Divine  aid  and  deliverance  which  is  promised  unto  the 
sincere  and  humble  and  obedient  penitent.  We  do  not 
say  that,  even  if  we  do  this,  God  will  surely  interfere 
for  our  deliverance.  There  are  periods  in  national,  as 
well  as  individual  life,  when  it  is  too  late  for  repentance  ; 
and  Christian  patriotism  confesses  this  day  to  a  strong; 
fear  that  1  he  measure  of  our  popular  iniquity  is  full, 
and  we  are  ripe  for  destruction.  Certain  it  is,  the  sins 
of  our  land  lie  heavy  upon  us,  sins  of  omission  and  com- 
mission ;  sins  in  high  places  and  low  places,  of  tie 
rich  and  the  poor,  of  the  ruled  and  the  rulers ;  sins  in 
the  heart,  on  the  tongue,  in  the  life ;  sins  against  God's 
judgments  and  God's  mercies ;  rebellion  against  God's 


GOUS  FORBEARANCE.  103 

law  and  ingratitude  against  God's  love  ;  iniquities,  in  a 
word,  in  every  place  and  of  every  kind  and  in  every 
degree  and  against  all  obligation.  Ah  me !  what  a 
tremendous  account  of  evil  thought  hath  a  holy  God 
written  up  against  this  so  highly  blessed  people ;  and 
who  marvels  that  we  are  in  jeopardy,  when  sin,  such 
fearful  and  foul  sin  against  God,  lies  as  a  palsy  on 
the  intellect  of  our  wise  men  and  a  crushing  load  on  the 
strength  of  our  mighty  men  ? 

Meanwhile,  though  thus  manifestly  and  even  con- 
sciously guilty,  we  can  perceive  little  in  our  midst  of 
that  sincere  national  repentance  which  secured  unto  an 
imperiled  people  God's  deliverance  of  old.  In  the 
midst  of  all  this  manifest  peril,  Avhere,  so  far  as  human 
wisdom  can  foresee,  the  deplorable  alternative  is,  either  a 
bloody  extirpation  of  a  rebellious  section  or  the  never- 
ceasing  struggles  of  rival  confederacies.  In  a  crisis 
which  might  draw  tears  from  angel  eyes,  the  last  great 
experiment  of  free  institutions  seeming  to  fade,  and  the 
shadow  on  the  world's  dial-plate  pausing  to  go  back- 
ward through  the  loug  centuries  of  social  progress. 
Yet,  thus  fearfully  circumstanced,  what  do  we  see? 
\Ye  see,  on  the  one  hand,"  armed  and  open  rebellion. 
States  that  owe  all  they  have  and  are  to  God's  blessings 
on  this  Union,  seemingly  dead  to  every  patriotic  and 
philanthropic  sentiment  of  our  nature,  blind  even  to 
every  smaller  and  meaner  consideration  of  self-interest 
and  self-preservation,  deaf  to  all  utterances  of  political 
science  and  the  wisdom  of  experience,  striving  to  wreck 
this  grand  ship  of  State,  that  out  of  its  fragments  may 
be  constructed  some  crazy  raft,  which,  without  chart  or 


i04  GO  US  FORBEARANCE. 

quadrant  or  compass,  they  may  steer  by  coDJecture  and 
the  stars. 

This  on  the  one  hand  ;  and  on  tlic  other,  men  equally 
insane  and  abandoned;  States  exultant  with  an  unseemly 
and  fearful  mirth,  denouncing  all  concessions  and  com- 
promises, and  clamorous  for  blood.  When  concessions 
are  only  unto  righteousness,  and  compromises  are  only 
unto  the  wronged,  and  the  only  blood  that  can  be  shed 
is  the  blood  of  our  brethren,  verily,  there  is  little  in  all 
this  that  looks  like  national  repentance.  And  as  such 
repentance  is  the  alone  condition  of  the  Divine  favor, 
we  do  feel — we  can  not  but  feel — that  we  are  in  one  of 
those  great  exigencies,  a  state  of  suspense  between  hope 
and  fear,  wherein  we  have  no  certainty  that  God  will 
interpose  f«)r  us. 

Of  one  thing  we  are  certain,  that  our  only  hope  is  in 
God  ;  and  we  have  no  hope  in  God,  save  in  His  pre- 
scribed way  of  repentance  and  reformation,  and  earnest 
])rayer.  In  these  respects,  having  performed  our  duty, 
then,  and  then  only,  can  we  cast  the  whole  issue  upon  a 
Divine  and  gracious  Providence.     Our  present  duty  is, 

First.  To  cherish  in  our  hearts  a  profounder  sense  of 
our  dependence  as  a  nation  upon  the  Divine  favor. 
From  a  want  of  this  practical  sentiment  our  whole  peril 
has  sprung.  So  idolatrous  have  become  our  feelings 
toward  our  national  Union,  that  we  have  regarded  it  not 
only  as  self-perpetuating  without  Divine  conservation, 
but  as  absolutely  indispensable  to  God's  great  purposes 
of  mercy  and  salvation  toward  the  rest  of  the  world. 
The  Divine  favor  has  scarcely  been  named  or  reckoned 
among  our  elements  of  ])rosperity;  and  in  our  national 
patriotism  political  sagacity  has  been  more  valued  than 


I  GOD'S  FORBEARANCE.  105 

Godliness,  and  the  ballot-box  rather  than  the  mercy-seat 
has  been  relied  on  and  resorted  to  as  onr  grand  national 
palladium. 

And  with  this  infidel  idolatry,  Jehovali  has  waxed 
wroth,  and  is  teaching  ns  this  day  that  all  the  material 
resonrces  and  social  influences  within  us,  whereon  we 
iiave  so  relied,  are,  without  the  Divine  blessing,  only  so 
many  powerful  elements  of  our  destruction,  and  that  all 
these  bonds  of  national  union  which  we  have  been  wont 
to  term  indissoluble;  this  communism  of  social  and 
commercial  interests;  this  brotherhood  of  kith  and  kin 
and  race ;  this  grand  geographical  unity  ;  this  proud  and 
priceless  partnership  in  the  common  memories  of  a  glor- 
ious past  and  the  common  interests  in  a  dazzling  and 
limitless  future ;  these,  all  these,  and  Avhatever  else  has 
seemed  to  us  as  bands  of  triple  steel  round  our  imperial 
confederacy,  are  only  a  poor  spider's  web  when  an 
incensed  God  turns  awav  from  us  the  lioht  of  His  coun- 

»  o 

tenance. 

This,  then,  is  our  first  duty,  to  return  to  the  simple 
and  strong  Christian  reliance  of  our  fathers,  as  well  for 
national  as  for  personal  blessing,  only  upon  the  sovereign 
power  and  mercy  of  God.     This  will  lead  us. 

Secondly.  To  that  unfeigned  repentance  for  our  sins 
which  can  alone  secure  us  the  Divine  favor.  As  national 
judgments  are  inflicted  for  national  sins,  therefore 
national  reformation  is  the  only  hopeful  way  to  escape 
from  them.  But  national  sins  are  but  the  aggregate  of 
individual  sins.  A  nation  only  repents  when  the  per- 
sons who  make  up  the  nation  repent,  each  for  his  own 
sin.  \Ye  must,  therefore,  enquire  diligently  this  day  as 
to  our  particular  sins  of  omission  or  commission  where- 


106  GOD'S  FORBEARANCE. 

with  God  is  angry,  sincerely  confessing  and  determinedly 
forsaking  them,  and  in  a  new  and  heartier  consecration 
resolving  henceforth  in  all  our  national  relationships  to 
lov^e  our  brethren  as  ourselves,  and  Jehovah  supremely ; 
that  with  all  our  might  and  mind  and  strength  we  may 
know  God,  and  keep  His  commandments.  In  a  word, 
we  must  firmly  and  boldly  do  our  duty  before  we  can 
even  ask  the  Divine  assistance. 

I  am  not  here  to  speak  evil  of  any  man,  much  less  of 
men  in  authority,  but  I  am  here  to  declare  as  a  grand 
principle  of  the  Divine  government,  that  God  helps  only 
those  who  are  striving  to  help  themselves.  The  mariner 
who  first  lets  his  bark  drive  amid  breakers,  and  then, 
recreant  to  all  brave  seamanship,  lets  go  helm  and  rope, 
that  he  may  weep  and  pray  upon  the  quarter-deck,  that 
man  not  only  disgraces  his  manhood,  but  as  foully  dis- 
honors God  as  the  veriest  infidel.  Repentance  toward 
God  is  no  indolent  and  tearful  sentiment,  but  a  strong, 
resolute  purpose  to  turn  away  from  all  that  is  evil,  and 
struggle  for  and  cling  to  all  that  is  good.  National  re- 
pentance includes  actual  national  reformation,  a  consci- 
entious determination  to  do  what  is  constitutional  and 
right  and  for  the  general  good  in  all  circumstances  and 
at  every  cost,  assured  that  only  when  fearlessly  and  to 
the  full  of  our  power  we  are  performing  our  duty  can 
we  look  for  or  even  ask  the  Divine  interference.  Hav- 
ing done  this,  then. 

Thirdly,  and  finally,  we  must  seek  God's  merciful 
interposals  by  instant  and  earnest  prayer.  As  if  we  had 
nowhere  else  to  go,  and  felt  that  without  Divine  aid  all 
our  efforts  are  useless,  w^e  must  besiege  the  mercy-seat 
with  intercessions  for  every  section  and  every  interest  of 


GOD'S  FORBEARANCE.  107 

our  distressed  country.  AVe  must  pray  that  God  will 
give  us  individually  and  for  our  own  personal  sins  the 
grace  of  repentance ;  that  He  will  remove  from  our  hearts 
the  false  pride  of  opinion  which  would  impel  us  to  per- 
severe in  wrong  for  the  sake  of  consistency  ;  that  He  will 
for  Christ's  sake  freely  forgive  all  those  national  sins 
which  have  called  down  upon  us  these  Divine  judg- 
ments; that  He  will  dispose  the  people  of  all  these 
States  sincerely  to  repent  of  their  own  special  wrong- 
doings, and  henceforth  to  give  diligence  to  every  work 
of  justice  and  brotherly  kindness  which  the  Constitution, 
and  laws  recognize  and  require;  that  He  will  bestow 
heavenly  wisdom  upon  our  rulers,  legislators,  and  con- 
ventions, that  they  may  adjust  all  questions  now  disturb- 
ing our  peace  upon  the  everlasting  basis  of  justice  and 
mercy  ;  that  He  will  give  unto  our  magistrates  alike  the 
conscience  and  the  courage  resolutely  to  enforce  all  right- 
eous laws  for  the  protection  of  all  good  citizens  and  the 
signal  punishment  of  all  that  are  disobedient;  that  He 
will  mercifully  hold  us  back  from  revolution  and  blood- 
shed, and  so  carry  us  through  all  our  perils  as  to  check 
forever  the  spirit  of  anarchy,  bring  permanent  peace  to  a 
distracted  people,  and  strengthen  and  perpetuate  to  the 
end  of  time  the  bonds  and  brotherhood  of  our  national 
Union.  Feeling,  in  regard  of  all  these  great  interests,, 
our  own  entire  dependence  upon  God's  gracious  help,  we 
are  to  plead  with  Him  from  every  principle  warranted 
in  Scripture ;  from  our  own  personal  and  national  neces- 
sities ;  from  the  welfare  of  the  Church  of  Christ ;  from 
the  highest  good  of  the  human  race ;  from  His  own  infin- 
ite power  and  sufficiency,  the  merits  and  intercessions  of 
the  Saviour  and  the  glory  of  His  own  most  holy  name 


108  GOD'S  FORBEARANCE. 

ill  the  safety  and  comfort  of  His  own  chosen  people.  By 
ail  such  arguments  are  Ave  to  plead  that  He  will 
graciously  interpose  in  our  behalf,  overruling  for  good 
all  the  conflicting  opinions  and  passions  of  men,  so  that 
henceforth,  with  a  tenderer  love  and  a  stronger  faith  and 
a  closer  consecration,  we  may  work  out  our  grand 
providential  mission  as  a  united  and  i)eculiar  people, 
whose  God  is  the  Lord. 

And,  having  thus  performed  conscientiously  our  own 
duty,  we  can  cast  all  our  imperiled  interests  upon  His 
gracious  providence,  assured  that  whateyer  be  the  result, 
it  must  be  ultimately  for  the  best.  We  have  no  right, 
nor,  indeed,  have  w^e  a  reason  to  despair  of  our  country. 
One  great  object  in  our  national  fast-day,  is  to  revive 
•our  courage  and  strengthen  our  faith.  Just  in  propor- 
tion as  we  cast  the  whole  issue  prayerfully  upon  God, 
will  our  own  confidence  be  restored.  It  is  mainly 
because  we  have  forgotten  God,  ignoring  Omnipotence 
as  a  errand  and  controllino;  force  in  our  national  life, 
and  mindful  only  of  the  stormy  and  short-lived  passions 
■of  the  hour,  and  the  powerlessness  of  human  policies  to 
.stay  or  control  them ;  only  for  this  practical  infidelity 
that  we  have  all  been  frightened  out  of  our  proprieties 
and  our  common-sense,  into  a  feverish  panic  and  childish 
and  cowardly  despair,  uttering  doleful  lamentations  over 
the  ruin  of  our  country,  and  chanting  requiems  over  the 
sepulchre  of  our  free  institutions,  as  if  the  ultimate  desti- 
nies of  a  land  like  this — a  land  created  by  a  miracle  of 
Divine  pow^r,  and  2)reserved  by  God's  love,  and  bap- 
tized wath  God's  baptism-^were  in  the  hands  of  the  un- 
principled demagogues  of  the  hour,  Avho,  like  birds  of 
evil  omen  and  foul  wdng,  delight  in  strife  and  fatten 


GOD'S  FORBEARANCE.  109 

upon  carnage ;  forgettiug  that  high  above  all  the  dust 
and  din  of  human  j^assions  sitteth  the  glorious  Jehovah, 
ordering  all  things  in  sovereign  love  unto  His  redeemed 
Church,  and  in  whose  serene  and  omnipotent  orderings 
all  these  malignant  impulses  of  evil  men  are  but  as  chaff 
driven  away  by  the  breath  of  Kis  mighty  power,  the 
unseemly  slush  on  the  golden  wheel  of  His  Providence, 
which  from  the  first,  even  until  now,  has  moved  demon- 
stratively over  this  continent  in  tiie  progress  of  a  pur- 
pose to  bless  through  us  the  nations  and  redeem  by  us 
the  world.  And  it  is  time  we  rose  into  hio^her  frames  of 
manly  and  Christian  courage  and  trust. 

It  seems  to  me  sinful  to  believe  that  God  has  forsaken 
this  favored  land  ;  and  if  He  still  be  gracious  toward  us, 
we  shall  yet  assuredly  be  saved  from  this  peril,  \\q>\j  and 
with  what  instruments  we  may  not  perhaps  foresee.  In 
prayers  for  national,  as  for  individual  deliverances,  we 
rely  not  merely  upon  Divine  power  to  do  the  work,  but 
upon  Divine  wisdom  to  devise  means  and  measures. 
In  asking  God  to  perpetuate  our  free  institutions,  we 
have  no  right  to  dictate  to  God  in  what  form  our  liberties 
shall  be  made  permanent.  We  have  no  right  to  assume 
that  their  present  form  is  of  all  the  best,  nor  even,  as  we 
have  been  wont  to  suppose,  that  our  entire  national 
unity  is  essential  to  our  most  efficient  working  out  the 
great  purposes  of  God.  This,  indeed,  seems  to  our  feeble 
reason  almost  a  necessity,  and  for  ourselves,  w^e  as  confi- 
dently expect  the  integrity  of  this  Union  to  be  ulti- 
mately preserved — not  one  name  blotted  from  its  great 
brotherhood — as  we  ex^^ect  yonder  sun  to  rise  and  set 
on  another  generation.  But  be  this  as  it  may,  if  we 
cast  our  land  upon  Omnipotent  grace,  whether  we  re- 


110  GOD'S  FORBEARANCE. 

main  iu  our  present  confederacy  essentially  one  or  take 
another  form  of  coequal  confederacies,  two  to  each  other, 
imd  one  to  all  tlie  world  beside,  at  least  in  some  form,  as 
God's  hand  shall  fashion  us,  Ave  may  safely  trust  that  He 
will  accomplish  through  us  His  grand  Avork  on  the  earth 
and  bring  us  in  prosperity  and  triumph  to  a  grand 
national  future. 

Such  a  confidence  in  God  is  to-day  both  our  duty  and 
privilege.  AVe  have  met  in  God's  house  just  that  such  a 
confidence  may  be  strengthened  Avithin  us,  that  our  calm 
common-sense  may  be  restored  to  us,  and  Ave  be  lifted  up 
from  tills  G(jd-dishonoring  despair  into  the  cheerfulness 
and  courage  of  Christian  faith.  Oh  that  God  AA^ould 
give  us  the  serene  and  steadfast  trust  of  the  old  patri- 
arclis  and  primitiA^e  belicATrs  ! 

DiiA'id,  the  man  of  God  and  the  monarch  of  His  chosen 
2:>eople,  should  be  our  pattern  in  peril.  Often  was  he 
brought  into  fearful  popular  tumults,  and  once  amid  ter- 
ri]:)le  couA^ulsions  his  human  counsellors  adA'ised  him  to 
escape  from  his  scA'ere  and  seemingly  inextricable  difiicul- 
ties  by  despairing  fliglit.  But  this  he  resolutely  refused 
to  do,  as  inconsistent  Avith  his  faith  in  the  righteousnes.- 
and  grace  of  JehoA^ah.  And  I  knoAV  of  nothing  in 
liuman  language  grander  than  that  beautiful  and  dra- 
matic record — '^  In  the  Lord  do  I  put  my  trust ;  and 
Ik^av  SMy  ye,  then,  Flee  as  a  bird  to  the  mountains.  If 
the  foundations  l)e  destroyed,  Avhat  shall  tlie  righteous 
do?  Tlie  Lord  is  in  His  Holy  Temple;  the  Lord's 
tlirone  is  in  the  lieaA'cns.  This  the  question  of  doubting 
antiquity,  ^' If  the  foundations  be  destroyed,  Avliat  shall 
the  righteous  do  ?"  And  the  ansAver'in  all  its  sublime 
and  triumphant  truth,  ^^  The  Lord  is  in  His  mo^t  Iioly 


GOUS  FORBEARANCE.  Ill 

temple."  Oh!  glorious  comforting  of  exulting  faith,  be 
it  ours  this  solemn  hour  as  God's  redeemed  children. 
Without,  amid  the  assemblies  of  unprincipled  and  ungodly 
men,  there  may  be  cries  of  passion  and  clamoring  for 
blood,  but  here  !  here  !  omnipotent,  omniscient,  all-mer- 
ciful, is  God !  God  ! 

And  do  not  tell  me,  as  if  to  drive  me  from  my  strong 
Christian  faith,  of  any  fearful  signals  of  disaster,  of  foul 
fanaticism  on  the  one  hand  and  foul  treason  on  the 
other,  uniting  their  unholy  forces  to  rock  into  dust  this 
])eloved  nationality,  till  this  fair  heritage  of  freedom — 
the  noblest,  the  loveliest  yonder  sun  shines  on — shall 
become  a  desolation,  its  waters  tears,  and  its  precious 
things  ashes,  and  its  only  remaining  glory  tlie  monu- 
ments of  the  dead.  Tell  me  not  of  this,  fjr  I  tell  you 
of  a  glorious  and  Almighty  One,  whose  we  are  and 
whom  we  love  and  on  whom,  from  all  His  merciful 
interposals  in  our  marvelous  past,  we  have  learned  con- 
fidently to  rely,  and  who  never  will  forsake  us  if  we 
cling  to  Him  in, faith.  I  tell  you  of  one  before  whose 
breath  all  human  passion  is  palsied,  and  in  wliose  march 
stormy  seas  sink  into  stillness.  ^'  The  Lord  !  The  Lord 
is  in  His  most  Holy  temple,"  and  His,  His  the  power, 
the  grace,  the  triumph,  the  glory  !  Here  !  here  !  on 
this  mercy-seat,  sitteth  one  whose  ^^  voice  stilleth  the 
noise  of  the  seas,  the  roaring  of  the  waves,  the  tumult  of 
tlie  people." 

Here  we  have  access  t<j  a  presence  and  can  cast  the 
interests  of  our  land  upon  a  wisdom  and  a  power  before 
which  human  counsels  and  combinations  and  evil  pur- 
poses and  angry  passions  are  as  mists  on  the  mountain- 
side when  the  mighty  wind  is  roiLsed,  or  the  great  sun  shines. 


112  GOD'S  FORBEARANCE. 

Let  us,  then,  approach  Him  in  humble,  loving  Ikith, 
bringing  our  beloved  land,  all-glorious  with  the  mem- 
ories of  His  earlier  and  omnipotent  deliverances,  and 
bathing  it  in  tears  of  humble,  grateful  penitence,  and 
casting  it  in  sublime  confidence  at  His  almighty  feet ; 
and  leaving  it  there,  go  forth  to  our  earthly  work  and 
walk,  cheerful,  ai?  of  old  time,  in  our  daily  tasks  and 
jovs,  our  faces  shining,  our  voices  exulting  with  faith 
and  hope.  And  henceforth  unto  all  birds  of  evil  omen, 
all  coAvardly  counsel,  that  Avould  fill  us  with  fears  and 
frighten  us  from  our  proprieties  Avith  forebodings  of 
ruin,  and  the  removal  of  foundations,  let  our  answer  be 
ever  like  David's — confidently  and  gladly — ''  The  Lord  ! 
The  Lord  is  in  His  most  holy  temple,  and  His  kingdom 
ruleth  over  all." 


A  LIVING  SACRIFICE. 


^'Present  your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice'-' — Romans  XII.  I. 

It  is  the  remark  of  one  who,  though  he  wasted  the 
substanee  of  his  immortal  nature  on  the  sickly  sentimen- 
talities and  affectations  of  life,  yet  possessed  within  him 
the  elements  of  rapid  and  resistless  thought,  that  '4here 
comes  in  every  man's  experience  a  season  anIicu  the  world 
seems  suddenly  to  have  lost  its  fiimiliarity,  and  every- 
thing to  have  become  new."  I  know  not  how  it  is,  but 
no  one  can  have  passed  the  sunny  land  that  lies  be- 
tween rudimental  youth  and  early  manhood,  without 
feeling  the  full  force  and  beauty  of  that  remark.  We 
come  into  this  world  with  our  senses  untrained  and  our 
faculties  undeveloped,  w^iose  air  we  have  never  breathed 
and  whose  waters  we  have  never  tasted  and  whose  sun- 
light we  have  never  felt,  and  yet  all  things  smile 
upon  us  as  familiar  things.  The  child  never  wonders 
that  the  flowers  bloom  and  the  skies  smile  and  the  waters 
murmur ;  nay,  he  would  not  Avonder  if  the  lily  were 
tinted  with  a  lovelier  hue,  and  the  streams  went  down 
Avith  a  more  beguiling  murmur,  and  the  far-away  heaven 
glowed  and  glittered  with  a  more  surpassing  glory.  But 
the  time  does  come,  before  the  storms  of  early  manhood, 
when  he  begins  to  w^onder  ;  w^hen  the  flowers  and  the 
forests,  the  winds  and  the  water-falls,  the  sunshine  and 
the  starlight ;  when,  in  fact,  ever}i:hing,  from  the  green 
thing  of  the  field  to  the  giant  orbs  of  the  firmament, 
seems  invested  suddenlv  Avith  the  interest  of  a  marvel 


114  yl  LIVING  SACRIFICE. 

and  arrayed  in  the  eoiorliigs  of  a  strange  and  startling 
niysteriousness.  And  this  fact  in  the  economy  of  human 
nature  is  as  true  in  respect  of  God's  Word  as  it  is  of 
God's  works.  A  child  reads  the  Bible  as  he  reads  the 
page  of  a  story.  He  admires,  but  he  does  not  marvel. 
Open  the  scroll  that  bears  the  annals  of  the  infant  world, 
and  the  child's  eye  wanders  delighted  over  the  record 
that  tells  him  of  the  trees  that  waved  in  their  living 
beauty  and  the  streams  that  ^vent  forth  in  their  bright 
strength  from  the  paradise  of  God.  But  to  the  eye  of 
him  for  whom  the  living  oracles  are  invested  Avith  a  new- 
discovered,  mysteriousness  ;  if  there  be  beautiful  things  in 
that  record,  there  are  wondrous  things  as  well.  He 
looks  toward  the  gate  of  the  forsaken  paradise,  and  his 
grief  that  it  shuts  forever  between  him  and  those  radiant 
waters  almost  gives  place  to  wonder  at  tile  vision  rising 
to  his  view.  Right  beside  that  majestic  portal  rises  in 
its  mysteriousness  an  altar  of  burnt  oifering,  and  the 
shinina:  of  the  fiery  armor  of  the  cherubic  watchmen 
is  dimned  and  darkened  by  the  smoke  going  up  from 
the  oifering  of  burnt  sacrifice  ;  and  the  scene  which  to  one 
was  a  delight  becomes  to  the  other  a  mystery.  It  Is  a 
mysterv,  and  to  the  mind  into  which  has  never  come 
down  the  llglit  of  life  it  will  ever  retain  its  mysterious- 
ness— that  the  flesh  of  beasts  fed  upon  the  rich  pastures 
within  Eden  was  laid  as  a  bleeding  and  blackened  obla- 
tion upon  the  altar  of  the  shepherd -priest  without  Eden. 
There  is  something  in  the  institution  of  bloody  sacrifices 
at  all,  and  especially  in  their  offering  with  the  pride  and 
the  pomp  of  the  Hel)re^y  ritual,  which  the  unrenewed 
soul  can  not  comprehend,  and  which  he  alone  does  not 
wonder  at  Avho  perceives  in  all  the  circumstances  of  those 


A  LIVING  SACRIFICE.  115 

bloody  ceremonials  not  only  a  true  and  thrilling  type  of 
ChrLst,  but  a  graphic  forth^■>hado^ving  of  the  spiritual 
worship  of  the  heart  that  worships  m  spirit  and  in  truth. 
To  him^  and  him  alone,  there  is  a  beautiful  and  evident 
desiij^n  of  teaching  man  the  true  nature  of  heart -worship 
in  the  elaborate  ceremonials  of  temple  and  altar  worship. 
And  therefore  it  is  not  to  him  a  wonder  that  the  first  al- 
tar that  reeked  with  the  blood  of  sacrifice  was  within 
sight  of  Eden,  for  there  had  been  sin  within,  and  there 
.should  be  suffering  without  the  paradise  of  God.  It  is 
not  for  us  to  follow  out  the  beautiful  analogy  between 
the  material  worship  of  the  elder  world  and  the  spiritual 
Avorship  of  the  new  dispensation  so  strikingly  insisted  on 
in  the  text  and  in  many  other  connections  of  PauFs 
Epistles.  And  we  have  adverted  to  it  only  because  the 
words  under  consideration  are  incapable  of  exposition  if 
Ave  forget  that  analogy.  The  temple  service  of  the  Jew 
was  one  of  tj^j^e  and  symbol  and  shadow  ;  the  veil  has 
been  rent  and  the  type  interpreted.  But  it  is  wise  for 
us,  as  Paul  so  delighted  to  do,  to  turn  back  again  and 
illustrate  the  thina:  sio'uified  bv  the  abroo-ated  ceremonial. 
The  mind  of  the  chiefest  of  the  Apostles  seems  to  have 
been  steeped  in  the  spirit  of  the  Jewish  ritual ;  reared  in 
the  strictest  sect  of  the  Hebrew  religionists,  his  thought, 
forever  with  the  love  of  his  young  years,  dwelt  upon  the 
mysteries  of  their  majestic  rites.  And  therefore,  when 
addressing  Gentiles,  it  is  as  a  Jew  he  speaks.  The  heart- 
worsliip  of  the  new  dispensation  seemed  to  him  but  the 
spiritualization  of  the  material  worship  of  the  old,  and  we 
do  n')t  wonder  that  he  wielded  the  burning  figures  of  il- 
lustration thus  fitted  to  his  hand  Avith  unmatched  power 
over  the  human  conscience. 


116  A  LIVING  SACRIFICE. 

Present  your  Ixxlies  as  "living  sacrifices."  What  an 
exhortation  !  AVho  but  the  man  that  preached  of  God's 
judgment-seat  before  the  iron-hearted  men  of  Areopagus 
would  dared  have  made  it?  You  read  it,  and  remembering 
that  it  is  to  worshipers  under  a  ncAV  economy  Paul  wrote^ 
your  imagination  shrinks  and  startles  from  the  scenery 
opened  to  your  view.  You  seem  to  stand  beneath  the  far- 
spread  canopy  of  a  majestic  temple.  The  glow  and  the 
glory  of  the  mighty  architecture  of  a  Divine  hand  swells 
around  you.  Up  from  the  jewels  sparkling  at  your  feet 
to  the  golden  fret-work  of  the  colossal  roof,  through  all 
the  aisles  and  arches  of  that  mighty  fane,  steals  the  lustre 
of  a  revealed  Divinity.  Far  away,  where  the  glory  is 
most  glorious,  with  the  flames  kindling  on  its  mighty 
frqjit,  rises  the  altar  of  oblation,  and  around  stand  the 
glittering  vessels  of  the  service,  and  the  white-robed 
courses  of  the  priestly  line.  And  as  you  gaze,  the 
mysterious  portal  is  thrown  back  to  the  day,  and  the 
rush  and  surge  of  the  multitude  of  worshipers  falls  upon. 
the  ear.  You  look  again ;  and  lo  !  a  solitary  worshiper, 
a  human  soul  in  the  garb  of  its  spirituality,  stands  before 
the  altar  flames.  The  (?hant  of  the  mighty  hallelujah  is 
hushed,  and  a  thrill  of  exulting  Avonder  swells  the  heart 
as  you  behold  that  spiritual  worshiper  lifting  up  in  th^ 
arms  of  its  fiith  that  living  human  form  wherein  it  had 
so  long  dwelt  as  a  pampered  guest ;  and  while  th( 
flames  sparkle,  and  the  incense  burns,  casting  it  as  a  liv- 
ing sacrifice  upon  that  gigantic  altar  of  burnt  ofleringJ 
Such  is  the  scenery  opened  in  our  text ;  such  were  th< 
ideas  of  the  world-abandoning,  flesh-sacrificing,  heai 
subduing  spirit  of  true  Christianity  that  stretched  themr 
selves  into  giant  piety  in  the  mind  of  Paul.     And  yoi 


A  LIVING  SACRIFICE.  117 

mv  hearers,  if  you  shrink  from  just  that  act  of  spiritual 
worship  ;  if  your  heart  startles  at  that  thought  of  tlie 
faggot  and  the  flame  ;  if  that  soul  of  yours,  in  the  might 
of  its  immortal  spirituality,  will  not  bring  that  body  of 
yours,  y/itli  its  liyino;  members  and  its  boundino^  blood, 
and  east  it  as  a  liying  sacrifice  into  the  altar-fires  of 
God's  liying  temple,  then  haye  ye  no  part  or  lot  with 
the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  in  the  holy  place  wherein  he 
has  entered  ;  then  between  you  and  the  temple  wherein 
the  spiritual  Israel  of  God  worship  hangs  the  curtain  of 
a  fearfid  obscurity,  and  if  through  the  veil,  as  through 
a  dim  and  distant  transparency,  ye  catch  partial  glimpses 
of  the  glory  within,  it  will  be  as  the  Egyptian  host 
gazed  upon  the  lurid  splendor  of  the  cloudy  pillar 
throu<T]i  which  Jehoyah  looked.  To  o-aze  and  wonder 
and  perish. 

^'Present  your  bodies  a  livinj  sacrifice  unto  God.^^ 
In  this  exhortation  with  that  wonderful  j)Ower  of  con- 
densation of  which  he  was  master  has  the  Apostk^ 
embodied  the  whole  essence  of  Christian  duty.  In  his 
high  and  noble  views  of  humanity  he  speaks  of  the 
animal  of  man's  nature  as  a  thing  separate  from  himself, 
as  a  mere  accident,  having  no  part  or  lot  with  tlie  in^- 
mortal  spirit  that  moves  within.  It  is  the  soul,  as  the 
only  Hhing  worthy  of  being  addressed,  that  Paul  ad- 
dresses. The  giant  will  that  can  put  forth  the  muscles 
of  its  immortal  fino-ers,  and  cast  the  livincr  body,  as  a 
thing  of  dust,  aA^•ay  ;  to  it,  in  the  performance  of  a 
ministry  from  heaven,  Paul  speaks. 

^^  Present  your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice.''  ^'  Pre- 
SEXT."  It  is  good  to  turn  away  from  the  semi-antinomian 
orthodoxy  of  the  present  day,  and  Dbserve  how  Paul, 


h 


118  A  LIVING  SACRIFICE, 

while  lie  yielded  to  .no  man  in  his  views  of  the  entire 
sovereignty  and  freeness  of  Divine  grace,  yet   delighted 
to  inculcate  the  obligation  of  perfect  and  j)erpetual  con- 
formity  to   the   Divine   law.     Xo   man   can   read  the 
writings  of  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  and  not  perceive 
that  his  idea  of   Christ's  atonement  was  an  expedient 
not    merely    to    render  men  salvable,  but  to  save  them. 
And  yet  so  far  is  he  from  perverting  that  blessed  doc- 
trine to  an  occasion  of  licentiousness,  that  he  constantly 
employs  it  as  a  powerful  incentive  to  the  performance 
'  of  good  works  ;  and  nowhere  else  do  I  find  so   match- 
less a  refutation  of  the  foul,  yet  favorite  cant  that  a  faith 
in  the  unlimited  and  irrespective  sovereignty  of  Divine 
grace  tends  to  beget  and  foster  religious  libertinism,  as 
in  the  fact  that  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  in  every  page 
and  paragraph  of  his  matchless  Epistles  seems  to  recog- 
nize and  inculcate  the  necessity  of  active  and  entire  con- 
formity to  the  Divine  will  as  necessary  to  our  salvation. 
With   that  rapid   and  resistless  swell  of  thought  which 
formed  the  characteristic  peculiarity  of  his  ardent  mind, 
Paul  seems  to  have  devoted  himself,  as  his  master-pur- 
pose,  to   the   encouragement  of  Christian   men  in  the 
attdinment  of  gigantic  practical  and  active  piety.     From 
the  exciting  scenes  of  the  great  world,  wherein  he  had 
so   loved   to   mingle  ;  from  the  arena  of  strife  and  the 
wrestling  struggle  ;  :l^om  the  race-course  and  the  battle- 
field, did  he  gather  illustrations  and  motives  to  urge  on 
the  spiritual  athlete  in  his   labor  while   the  day  lasted 
wherein  he  could  work.     His  thrilling  voice  falls  upon 
the  ear  of  the  sluggish  Christian  like  the  trumpet  peal 
of  battle  upon  the  hearing  of  the  soldier  slumbering  on 
the  field  of  fight;  and  the  man  who  should  dare  to 


A  LIVING  SACRIFICE.  119 

sport  with  God's  thunderbolts  would  be  Aviser  than  he 
who  from  the  Epistles  of  the  Gentile  Apostle  dare  deduce 
the  doctrine  of  antinomlan  licentiousness.  It  is  beauti- 
ful, too,  to  observe  how  skillfully  in  the  figurative  ex- 
liortations  of  his  iuiaginative  mind  the  two  great  truths 
of  Divine  sovereignty  and  human  accountability  meet 
and  mingle.  It  is  grace  that  smooths  the  race-course 
and  fastens  the  jewel,  but  the  spirit  of  an  active  love 
must  fasten  the  eye  and  strain  the  sinew.  It  is  grace 
that  builds  the  bark  and  glasset^  the  ocean  and  rears  in 
some  distant  clime  the  haven  of  repose,  but  the  ncAv- 
born  soul,  as  an  immortal  voyager,  must  for  itself  weigh 
the  arichor  and  spread  the  sail  and  launch  forth  in 
strength  of  heroic  daring  to  brave  the  billow  and 
the  blast.  It  is  grace  that  from  the  shattered  ruins  of 
man's  primeval  nature  rears  again  with  arches  and 
columns  and  a  priestly  line  the  temple  for  God's  spirit- 
ual worship.  It  is  grace  that  builds  the  altar,  and 
kindles  the  tire  upon  its  mighty  front,  and  lifts  the  cur- 
'  tain  of  a  fearful  obscurity  from  the  majestic  portal.  But 
it  is  the  new  created  soul,  as  a  spiritual  Avorshiper  gifted 
with  the  fervor  of  an  angel's  love  and  girded  with  the 
raiment  of  a  spiritual  priesthood,  that  enters  that  temple 
with  a  tread  of  strength,  and  arranges  the  vessels  of  the 
service  ;  and  while  the  anthem  swells  and  the  incense 
burns,  lifts  the  breathing  body  in  its  mighty  arms,  casts 
it  as  a  living  sacrifice  upon  the  burning  altar  of  the  liv- 
ing God.  It  is  the  Christian  himself,  in  the  exercise  of 
an  active  and  ardent  piety,  that  "  presents ''  the  offering. 
He  can  not,  to  be  sure,  render  it  acceptable.  The  God 
he  worships  sits  upon  a  throne  high  and  lifted  up,  and 
the  smoke  of  the  offering  that  burns  upon  the  altar  will. 


120  A  LIVING  SACRIFICE. 

for  aught  he  can  do,  l)e  an  offence  unto  Him ;  but  he 
oiFers  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  he  ofPers  his  all, 
for  he  oifers  himself. 

^^Frcsent  your  bodies.''''  Not  the  gold  of  your  coffers, 
nor  the  jewels  of  your  casket,  nor  the  herd  of  your  pas- 
ture, nor  the  fed-beasts  of  your  stall,  but  your  body, 
with  its  muscles  and  its  sinews  and  its  living  limbs.  I 
cease  to  wonder  at  the  comparative  multitude  of  the  prose- 
lytes that  gathered  around  the  substantial  ceremonials  of 
the  Hebrew  faith,  Avhen  I  consider  how  like  the  dust  of 
the  balance  were  the  services  they  paid  and  the  obla- 
tions they  brought.  They  brought  their  beasts;  the 
proselyte  of  a  later  and  lovelier  faith  brings  his  body. 

The  expression,  ^'  Your  bodies,''  is  perhaps  uearly 
equivalent  to  '^  Yourselves."  In  the  use  of  it  Paul  wished 
to  render  prominent  the  idea  that  the  whole  man,  body 
and  soul,  was  to  1)3  devoted  to  the  service  of  his  Maker. 
It  was  this  alone  that  man  could  offer — the  other  things 
of  the  visible  creation  were  already  God's,  not  only  by 
their  creation  and  preservation,  but  in  virtue  of  their 
unsubdued  and  unshaken  allegiance;  but  man  was  an 
apostate,  and  therefore  he  might  l)ring  himelf  to 
God's  temple,  and  cast  himself  as  a  free-will  offer- 
ing upon  God's  altar.  But  this  was  not  the  whole  of 
the  Apostle's  design.  It  is  wonderful  hoAV  often  in  this 
writing  we  find  the  flesh  S])oken  of  with  apparent  loath- 
ing. It  is  an  ^'earthly  house,"  from  which  the  spirit 
guest  longs  to  go  forth  on  the  broad  and  bright  journey- 
ings  of  eternity.  It  is  an  enemy,  the  law  of  whose 
members  is  warring  Avith  the  law  of  his  mind.  It  is  a 
vile  body,  which  the  immortal  Spirit  yearns  to  cast  aside, 
that  it  mav  array  itself  in  a  radiant  coverino^  like  unto 


A  LIVING  SACRIFICE.  121 

Christ's  glorious  body.  But  here^  as  the  burning  figures 
of  inspiration  pressed  upon  his  soul,  Paul  seems  for  a 
moment  to  have  forgotten  his  desire  to  be  absent  from 
the  flesh.  He  had  found  a  use  for  that  ^'earthly  taber- 
nacle"— that  vile  coverhig,  those  Avarring  members.  In 
the  midst  of  God's  spiritual  temple  he  perceived  the 
flames  kindling  upon  the  majestic  altar.  The  worship- 
ers in  their  immortality  thronged  the  courts;  but  their 
hands  were  without  offerings,  for  what  could  they  bring? 
Every  beast  of  the  forest  was  the  Lord's,  and  the  cattle 
upon  a  thousand  hills.  He  would  take  no  bullock  out 
of  their  house,  nor  he  goats  out  of  their  stall.  But  as 
Paul  looked  upon  those  worshipers  he  remembered  the 
animal  of  their  immortal  nature,  that  polluted  frame- 
work of  materialism,  with  its  debased  and  groveling  fen- 
dencies,  and  lifting  up  his  voice  till  the  aisles  of  the 
tem23le  rang  again,  he  cried,  ^'  Present  your  bodies.  Pre- 
sent your  bodies'as  living  sacrifices."  Oh!  I  do  not 
know  how,  with  this  startling  cry  of  the  Apostle  of  the 
Gentiles  ringing  in  the  ear,  God's  professed  children  can 
tamper  with  the  movements  of  carnal  appetite,  and  plead 
the  involuntary  possession  of  a  depraved  nature  as  an 
excuse  for  want  of  entire  self-dedication  to  God — unholy 
appetite  and  passion!  AVhy,  it  is  just  because  your 
members  are  sufiiised  with  them,  so  that  Avitli  the  inten- 
sity of  a  mighty  desire  they  struggle  to  yield  themselves 
servants  to  uncleanness,  that  your  vile  bodies  are  fit  offer- 
ings for  the  burning  altar  of  the  living  God.  It  is  just 
because  there  has  come  down  a  dreadful  disruption  upon 
the  original  harmony  of  your  complex  nature,  so  that  in 
the  soul  of  every  renewed  man  there  goes  on  a  constant 
warfare,  the  spirit  warring  with  the  flesh,  and  the  flesh 


122  A  LIVING  SACRIFICE. 

warring  with  the  spirit,  that  this  world  is  the  very  best 
world  wherein  a  spirit  could  train  itself  for  the  skies. 
In  the  bright  unfoldings  of  eternity  there  will  be  seen  an 
evident  design  of  mercy  in  the  arrangement  that  left  the 
new-born  soul  chained  to  the  members  of  a  polluted  and 
putrifying  body.  It  provides  it  a  race-course  whereon  to 
shake  the  dust  from  its  sandals  and  strain  toward  the  prize. 
It  spreads  before  it  a  battle-field,  upon  which,  in  the 
strength  of  its  risen  Lord,  it  can  struggle  for  the  mastery. 
It  furnishes,  ready-prepared  to  its  hand,  a  burnt-sacrifice 
for  God's  altar.  "  Present  your  bodies  f  yes,  my  brother, 
that  frame-work  of  your  immortal  nature  in  its  pollu- 
tions; those  impure  desires ;  those  carnal  appetites;  that 
hungering  after  forbidden  gratification ;  that  clamoring 
for  Sensual  pleasures ;  that  lust  of  the  flesh ;  that  lust  of 
the  eye;  that  fastening  of  the  soul  upon  things  that 
perish  with  the  using ;  those  unholy  emotions  which  link 
you,  as  a  perishing  thing,  with  the  beasts  of  the  field  and 
the  fowls  of  the  air  are  to  be  cast  from  you  in  your  spirit- 
ual worship,  as  the  Hebrew  in  his  substantial  Avorship 
cast  from  him  his  oblation — "a  living  sacrifice  unto  God.'' 
''^A  sacrifice — "a  thing  to  bleed  beneath  the  knife  of  the 
Lcvite,  and  to  burn  and  blacken  in  the  fierce  flame 
kindled  on  the  altar;  to  feel  in  all  its  members  the  touch 
of  the  flame  scorching  it  to  ashes.  So  that  life  on  earth 
shall  not  be  the  pampering  of  a  corrupt  appetite,  but  the 
struggling  with  unholy  propensity  such  as  the  high 
priest  witnessed  between  the  shrinking  sinews  of  the 
victim  and  the  touch  of  the  corroding  flame.  "^I  sacri- 
fice^— the  free-will  offering  of  the  whole  man,  not  merely 
the  renewed  soul  with  its  lofty  aspirations,  Init  the  decay- 
ing flesh,  with  its  lowly  tendencies,  to  tlie  living  God. 


A  LIVING  SACRIFICE.  123 

You  are  to  lay  the  grasp  of  a  renewed  will  upon  ev- 
ery impulse  of  an  unsanctified  nature,  and  force  it  away, 
as  the  Israelite  led  to  the  temple  the  struggling  beast,  to 
smoke  for  a  burnt  offering  unto  Jehovah.  "  A  living 
sacrifice.'^  The  Hebrew  led  to  the  temple  the  firstling 
of  his  flock,  and  left  it  there  to  die.  There  was  the  glit- 
ter of  the  consecrated  knife  and  the  stifled  breath  of  fear 
and  the  gushing  of  the  hot  blood  and  the  sound  of  the 
death-gurgle,  and  that  whicli  smoked  upon  the  altar  was 
the  flesh  of  the  dead.  But  in  the  instituted  worship  of 
the  new  economy  the  oblation  upon  the  altar  must  be  a 
living  sacrifice.  '■'•  Let  the*dead  bury  their  dead  ;'^  but 
he  who  would  w^orship  Jehovah  in  spirit  and  in  truth 
must  bring  his  body  as  a  I'li'ing  sacrifice  unto  God.  Liv- 
ingy  because,  while  the  sinew  shrinks  and  the  flesh  shriv- 
els, the  heart  beats  and  the  pulses  play  with  the  free  im- 
pulses of  a  life  hid  with  Christ.  Living,  because  every 
member  and  muscle  of  the  self-dedicating  victim  feols 
keenlv  the  fierceness  of  the  consecrating  flame.  Living, 
because  the  temple  service  ends  not  with  the  day,  but 
through  all  the  hours  of  a  burdening  mortality  there  goes 
on  the  ceremonies  of  the  fearful  ritual.  The  priest  stands 
girdeil  for  his  toil,  and  the  flames  sparkle  and  the  flesh 
quivers  and  the  smoke  ascends,  till  the  cold,  black  waters 
of  death  are  poured  upon  the  firelight  of  the  altar. 

^'  Present  your  bodies  a  Ucing  sacrifice. ''^  Oh  !  in  view 
of  such  an  exhortation  I  know  not  how  those  who  are 
at  ease  in  Zion  can  lay  to  their  souls  the  flattering  unction 
that  they  are  born  of  God.  I  know  not  how  the  man 
who  lives  in  this  world  as  if  \t  were  his  home,  seeking 
its  pleasures  and  securing  its  friendships  and  bowing  his 
immortal  soul  in  a  slavish  conformity  to  the  lusts  of  the 


124  A  LIVING  SACRIFICE. 

flesh  and  the  lusts  of  the  eve  and  the  pride  of  life,  dare 
put  forth  his  hand  to  the  vessels  of  a  service  whose  offer- 
ings are  a  ^^  living  sacrifice  unto  GodJ^  I  cau  not  tell,  for 
I  have  not  been  told  of  the  ritual  ceremonials  of  that  gi- 
gantic temple,  over  whose  portal  hangs  the  curtain  of  the 
grave.  I  do  not  kno^v  how  blessed  and  how  glorious 
shall  be  the  employment  of  the  spirit  of  a  just  man  made 
perfect,  when,  arrayed  in  the  raiment  of  a  celestial  line, 
it  shall  be  a  king  and  a  priest  unto  God.  But  I  do  know 
that  this  side  the  veil  that  hideth  the  upper  sanctuary 
there  is  no  resting-place  for  the  Christian,  and  that  while 
lie  tabernacles  in  the  flesh,  h^ stands  as  a  Levite  in  God's 
lower  temple,  and  his  business  is  to  offer  his  body,  with 
its  struggling  lusts  and  its  groveling  propensities,  a  liv- 
ing sacrifice  unto  God. 

And  you,  fellow  disciple  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how 
sounds  this  exhortation  in  your  ear  to-day  ?  You  have 
been  named  with  the  name  of  Jesus  ;  are  you  careful  to 
depart  from  iniquity  ?  You  have  declared  yourselves 
servants  of  God,  to  glorify  Him  with  your  bodies  as  well 
as  your  spirits  ;  are  you  yielding  your  members  servants 
of.  righteousness  ?  Are  you  struggling  to  keep  your 
body  under,  as  Paul  struggled,  with  the  fearful  thought 
pressing  upon  your  mind,  ^'  Lest  otherwise  ye  should  be  a 
castaway  ?''  Are  you  trampling  under  your  feet,  as  an 
iiccursed  thing,  every  unholy  propensity  of  the  flesh 
which  would  assimilate  you  to  those  that  perish  ?  Do 
you  look  upon  those  carnal  and  corrupt  desires  that 
struggle  for  the  ascendency,  not  as  guiltless  appetites,  to 
be  gratified,  but  as  living  things,  to  be  crucified  on 
Christ's  Cross,  and  offered  on  God's  altar  ?  You  are  a 
runner  for  a  prize  ;  is  your  animal  nature  but  the  limbs 


A  LIVING  SACRIFICE.  125 

and  the  sinews  that  bear  you  to  the  goal  ?  You  are 
a  soldier  of  the  cross ;  is  your  body  but  tlie  weapon  of 
your  warfare,  that  may  be  shriveled  in  the  conflict? 
You  are  worshipers  in  God's  spiritual  temple ;  do  you 
stand  there  in  the  spirit  of  Paul's  exliortation,  your  soul 
girded  with  the  strength  and  clad  in  the  garments  of  an 
immortal  priesthood,  with  but  one  task  and  one  desire 
— to  keep  the  vessels  of  the  service  bright  and  the  altar 
flame  burning,  and  your  bodies  the  hurnt  offerinrj — with 
their  appetites  and  their  desires,  their  members  and  their 
muscles  and  their  bounding  blood  always  ready  to  be 
offered — nay,  always  offered — feeling  and  feeding  the 
flame  of  self-dedication — ^^  crucified  unto  the  world — 
livino*  sacrifices  unto  God  ?" 

o 

Oh,  my  brother  !  if  you  have  dedicated  yourself,  soul 
and  body,  to  the  service  of  your  Lord,  then  have  you 
bound  yourself,  soul  and  body,  unto  an  iron  task,  under 
which  there  is  no  sluggishness  and  no  slumber  and  no 
folding  of  the  hands  to  sleep.  The  sybarite's  bed  of 
roses  has  no  places  in  the  dormitories  of  the  priest  comt. 
You  have  girded  yourself  to  follow  in  the  giant  footsteps 
of  your  great  Forerunner,  and  just  as  He,  in  the  might 
of  His  Divine  nature,  walked  with  His  shrinking  hu- 
manity to  the  summit  of  Calvary — thus  bearing  His 
mortality  as  a  breathing  oblation  to  the  death  fires  of  a 
colossal  altar — so  are  you  to  walk  earth  as  the  floor,  of 
God's  mighty  temple,  and  though  the  heart  shrivels  and 
the  pulses  shrink  from  the  searching  steel  and  the  scorch- 
ing flame,  you  are  to  lift  that  breathing  body  in  the 
arms  of  a  self-devoting  faith,  and  as  the  only  offering 
large  enough  for  the  Divine  yearning,  lay  it  upon  God's 
altar  a  sacrifice,  a  living  sacrifice — a  living  sacrifice  unto 


126  A  LIVING  SACRIFICE. 

God.  Kever,  in  view  of  this  startling  exhortation,  let 
him  that  loves  tlie  world  and  tlie  things  of  the  world, 
whose  business  on  earth  is  the  pampering  of  appetite 
and  the  mdulgence  of  carnal  desire  and  the  gratification 
of  the  lusts  of  the  outer  man,  whose  soul  startles  at 
the  flame  and  the  faggot,  and  shrinks  from  the  pluck- 
ing out  of  the  eye  and  the  cutting  of  the  hand,  to  whom 
heaven  is  only  a  delight  as  a  land  of  carnal  repose 
amid  summer  and  sunshine,  and  to  whom  hell  is  only 
a  terror  as  a  feeding-place  for  the  fang  of  the  worm 
upon  the  material  heart-string,  ne\'er,  oh  never,  let  him 
suppose  that  he  has  part  or  lot  in  the  services  of  a  tem- 
ple whose  sacrifices  are  "  living  sacrifices  unto  God." 
And  you,  my  impenitent  brother,  who  stand  proudly 
aloof  from  the  service  of  your  Lord,  between  whom 
and  the  glowing  and  glorious  architecture  of  God's  spir- 
itual temple  there  hangs  to-day  the  curtain  of  a  night- 
like obscurity,  to  you,  even  unto  you,  is  the  word  of 
our  salvation  sent.  You  are  like  the  Scythian  stranger, 
who  wandered  by  the  portal  of  the  Grecian  fane  in  the 
days  of  its  majestic  beauty.  You  gaze  upon  the  marble 
majesty  of  its  external  pomp,  charmed  by  its  grace  and 
itsgoodliness ;  you  stand  perhaps  upon  its  very  threshold ; 
through  the  mighty  veil  that  spreads  before  you,  you  listen 
to  the  bursts  of  the  hallelujahs  that  peal  through  its 
giant  arches,  and  catch,  as  through  a  dim  transparency, 
partial  glimpses  of  the  splendors  within.  But  oh  !  my 
brother,  into  your  heart  of  hearts  there  has  never  entered 
an  imagination  of  the  glories,  bright  and  burnii^g  and 
everlasting,  that  break  upon  the  eye  as  the  curtain  is 
lifted,  and  a  spiritual  worshiper  of  tlie  Spirit  God  enters; 
of  the  ])ricelessness  of  the  odor  that  burns  up;):i  the  air; 


A  LIVING  SACRIFICE.  127 

of  the  swell  of  the  hallelujah  that  bursts  upou  the  ear, 
in  view  of  splendors  of  sight  and  of  sound  which  none 
but  senses  unsealed  by  the  influences  of  the  new  birth 
can  perceive,  we  beseech  you  to  dedicate  yourselves  this 
day  to  the  temple  service  of  the  living  God.  Do  you 
shrink  from  the  severe  ceremonials  of  that  spiritual  rit- 
ual ;  does  ypur  soid  put  away  from  it  with  loathing  the 
thought  of  offering  that  breathing  body  as  a  living  sacrifice 
unto  God  ?  I  know  too  well  how  the  heart  of  the  natural 
man  loves  not  the  consecrating  flame  that  would  gather 
around  the'flesh  with  its  appetites  and  its  lusts.  But, 
my  brother,  did  you  ever  think  how  much  better  it  will 
be  to  enter  into  life  halt  and  maimed  than  having  two 
hands  or  two  feet  to  l)e  cast  into  hell-fire  ?  If  the  ques- 
tion Avere  ])etween  eternal  self-gratification  or  eternal  self- 
sacrificing  on  earth,  your  present  attitude  might  be  a 
a  safer  and  a  wiser  one,  but  the  election  is  between  a 
temporary  living  sacrifice  here  and  an  eternal  living  sac- 
rifice hereafter.  We  admit  all  you  can  urge  of  the 
hardships  of  a  Christian's  life  on  earth.  We  will  go 
farther  than  you  can  go  iu  our  ideas  of  tlie  painful 
services  for  which  a  Christian  girds  himself  wlien  he  en- 
ters the  spiritual  temple  of  the  living  God.  AYe  tell 
you  that  the  soul  is  to  stand  unshrinking  and  unslum- 
bering  by  the  mighty  altar,  and  the  body  to  lio  shriveled 
and  scorching  in  its  rising  flames  ;  but  yet  we  know  well 
that  with  all  this  the  soul  will  be  lapsed  in  Elysium 
compared  with  the  service  for  which  you  are  preparing 
your  souls.  Oh  !  my  brother,  did  you  ever  remember 
that  while  God  and  the  Lamb  are  the  temple  into  wdiich 
the  souls  of  just  men  made  perfect  enter,  that  only  the 
dark  curtain  of  death  separates  between  you  and  the  rites 


128  A  LIVING  SACRIFICE. 

of  a  mighty  fane,  the  vessels  of  whose  service  and  the 
raiment  of  whose  priesthood,  whose  spreading  floor  and 
whose  sparkling  roof,  whose  altar  and  whose  arches  and 
whose  living;:  thincrs  are  wrouo;ht  and  woven  of  the  im- 
mortal  flames  of  the  second  death.  Have  you  ever 
thought  of  the  ritual  service  of  the  temple  of  hell  ?  How 
that  body  of  yours  that  shrinks  so  sensitively  from  the 
thought  of  defilement,  with  its  sensibilities  sharpened 
and  its  nerves  restrung,  shall  be  given  over  into  the  arms 
of  the  giant  tormenter,  and  with  the  wail  and  the  worm 
and  the  smoke  of  the  torment,  be  offered  forever  as  a 
living  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  hell  ? 


THE  CENTURION. 


*'  There  was  a  certain  man  in  Cesarea  called  Cornelius,  a  Centur- 
ion, of  the  band  called  the  Italian  band,  a  devout  ?n an,  and  one  that 
feared  God  with  all  his  house,  and  gave  much  alms  to  the  people,  and 
prayed  to  God  always.'' — Acts  x.  I,  2. 

There  is  nothing,  it  seems  to  me,  in  which  simple 
common-sense  is  so  much  needed  and  so  little  found,  as 
in  this  matter  of  experimental  religion  or  practical  sal- 
vation. I  take  it  for  granted,  that  in  every  community 
there  are  at  least  a  fe\y  persons  who  are  thoughtful  for 
eternity,  and  sometimes,  at  least,  wish  they  were  Chris- 
tians. And  yet  of  these  few  the  larger  part  utterly 
ignore,  in  this  important  matter,  the  common-sense  of 
the  children  of  this  world,  wise  in  their  generation. 
They  may  be  divided  into  two  classes — 

1.  The  one  thinking  that  because  God  is  a  sovereign 
in  grace  they  have  nothing  to  do  in  religion  till  God 
converts  them. 

2.  The  other  thinking  that  because  they  are  free- 
agents  there  is  no  need  of  regeneration  at  all  if  they  do 
what  thfy  can.  And  they  are  both  Avanting  in  the 
common-sense  of  men  w^se  in  their  generation  ;  for  it  is 
the  peculiarity  of  such  men  to  learn  present  wisdom 
from  all  the  experience  of  the  past.  If  they  travel  on 
land,  they  follow  the  broad  highways  flung  up  for 
for  them.  If  they  voyage  on  Avater,  they  are  guided  b}- 
well-authenticated  charts.  And  it  is  only  in  man's 
journey  to  heaven  that  he  obstinately  follows  his  own 


130  THE  CENTURION. 

thouglits  and  devices,  utterly  ignoring  the  experience 
of  the  past. 

Ill  the  Bible  not  only  is  the  great  plan  of  salvation 
philosophically  explained,  but  practically  illustrated  in 
the  lives  of  God's  true  childreu ;  and  if  men  would  be 
wise  in  spiritual  as  in  temporal  things,  and  study  the 
Bible  to  learn  what  religion  is,  no  one  really  wishing  to 
be  a  Christian  would  remain  long  unconverted,  for  S!> 
plain  is  the  path  of  practical  piety,  that  the  wayfaring 
man,  though  a  fool,  need  not  err  therein. 

Now,  taking  it  for  granted  that  there  are  some  of  you 
this  day  who  really  wish  you  were  Christians,  I  ask 
your  attention  to  this  history  of  Cornelius  as  a  practical 
illustration  of  this  whole  matter.  We  have  here,  so  to 
speak,  a  model  conversion — the  inspired  record  of  the 
way  in  which  the  first  regenerated  Gentile  became  per- 
sonally and  experimentally  a  disciple  of  Christ.  And 
thus  considering  this  history,  we  have  here  three  simple 
themes  of  remark — the  subject,  the  instrumentality,  and 
the  efficient  cause  of  conversion.     Let  us  consider, 

Firsty  The  Subject — Cornelius,  the  Centurion,  the 
first  Gentile  convert  to  Christianity.  And  at  present  we 
are  not  much  concerned  with  his  personal  biography. 
He  was  an  officer  in  the  Boman  levies  then  serving  in 
Palestine.  His  residence  was  Cesarea  Palestina,  a  beau- 
tiful town  twenty-five  miles  north  of  Joppa,  and  fifty-five 
miles  from  Jerusalem.  Tradition  assigns  him  to  a 
patrician  branch  of  the  great  Cornelian  family,  one  of 
the  most  distinguished  Italian  houses,  which  produced  a 
greater  number  of  illustrious  men  than  any  other  in 
Bome.  All  this  matters  not,  but  with  his  spirituul  or 
religious  biography  we  are  now  only  concerned.     Our 


THE  CENTURION.        '  131 

text  describes  him  as  "  A  devout  man,  one  that  feared 
God  with  all  his  house,  gave  much  ahns  to  the  people, 
and  prayed  to  God  ahvaysy  This,  you  will  observe, 
was  his  religious  character  before  the  gift  of  the  Holy 
Spirit. 

The  whole  history,  wherever  Peter  speaks  of  him  as 
of  another  nation,  and  wherever  the  Jewish  Christians 
manifest  so  much  astonishment  at  his  conversion,  is 
against  the  idea  that  he  was  a  Jewish  proselyte,  and  had 
received  circumcision.  He  seems  to  have  been  an  intel- 
ligent and  conscientious  Gentile,  who,  living  among  the 
Jews,  saw  the  superiority  of  their  religion  ta  heathenism  ; 
had  studied  their  Scriptures,  abandoned  idolatry,  and 
regarded  and  worshiped  Jehovah  as  the  one  only  living 
and  true  God. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  his  spiritual  history  in  the  text  is 
striking  and  most  instructive  to  the  two  classes  of  men 
we  have  already  described.  The  one  passively  waiting 
for  God  to  convert,  the  other  actively  thinking  to  be 
religious  of  themselves.  He  seems  to  have  heard  of  the 
marvelous  Pentacostal  powers — the  Divine  influence 
from  on  high,  making  man  a  new  creature.  And  for 
the  experience  of  this  he  was  hoping  and  praying.  But 
how  waiting  and  how  praying  ?  Idly  pleading  for  Divine 
grace  to  descend  omnipotently  upon  him?  Oh,  no ! 
Active,  earnest,  up  to  all  the  light  he  had  in  the  secur- 
rance  of  salvation. 

"  He  was  a  devout  man  " — a  worshipful  man.  Hav- 
ing from  contact  with  the  Jews  come  to  a  knowledge  of 
the  true  God,  he  not  only  made  Him  an  object  of 
solemn  meditation,  but  engaged  continually  in  acts  of 
sincere  worship. 


132  THE  CENTURION. 

^^  He  feared  GodJ^  This  outAvard  situation  expresses 
liis  true  feelings.  The  word  denotes  obedience.  Ac- 
quainted with  the  precepts  of  the^Jewish  law,  he  strove 
to  conform  to  them.  He  turned  away  from  idols,  hal- 
lowed God's  Sabbaths,  reverenced  His  name,  and  in  all 
acts  of  his  life  strove  to  honor  and  obey  Him. 

^^  He  gave  much  alms  to  the  people.''^  His  religion 
ended  not  with  the  first  table  of  the  decalogue.  He 
sought  to  conform  his  whole  life  to  all  those  precepts  of 
the  second  table  which  are  included  in  the  Saviour's 
second  command — '^  Thou  shall  love  thy  neighbor  as 
thyself!^*  He  did  not  worship  God,  and  cheat  men; 
nor  do  good  to  men,  and  forget  God.  In  short,  he  Avas 
striving  in  every  way  to  bring  his  heart  and  life  into 
conformity  to  the  great  principles  of  the  kingdom  of 
God.  He  did  not  commit  the  practical  solecism  of  ex- 
pecting any  miraculous  gracious  change,  while  living  in 
positive  ( or  even  passive  )  rebellion  against  God.  But 
without  waiting  for  any  such  manifestation,  began  at  the 
very  outset  to  live'  like  the  surrounding  Christians, 
thinking,  most  wisely,  that  just  this  attitude  of  obedi- 
ence was  the  only  attitude  in  which  he  could  hope  for 
regenerating  grace.  But  though  thus  earnestly  working, 
he  was,  the  while,  as  earnestly  waiting.  He  had  seen 
enough  of  the  workings  of  Divine  grace,  and  knew 
enough  of  the  deep-rooted  and  desperate  carnality  of  his 
own  nature,  to  understand  that  all  his  work  was  in  vain 
Avithout  the  Divine  work. 

And  so,  as  the  record  adds,  "  He  prayed  to  God 
always.''^  This  means,  of  course,  that  he  off^^red  up 
statedly  the  thanksgiving  and  petitions  of  the  Jewish 
worship.      But    it  implies    more,  as    his  prayer  was 


THE  CENTURION.    ^  133 

answered  by  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  so  that  gift 
must  have  been  the  absorbing  object  of  his  prayer.  He 
was  ever  looking,  hoping,  praying  for  that  converting 
grace. 

This,  in  short,  is  the  history  of  the  first  Gentile  con- 
vert ;  this  the  truth  taught  as  we  consider  this  subject 
of  salvation.  This  history  shows  him  in  the  only  true 
attitude  in  which  grace  can  be  hoped  for.  He  was 
working  and  Avaiting,  not  working  without  waiting,  as 
if  he  could  do  all  things;  nor  yet  waiting  Avithout  M'ork- 
ing,  as  if  he  could  do  nothing ;  but  working  and  wait- 
ing. Working  as  earnestly  as  if  he  could  do  all ; 
waiting  as  devoutly  as  if  he  could  do  nothing. 

And  before  passing  to  the  other  points  of  the  text,  we 
wish  to  impress  this  truth  on  the  conscience  of  the  two 
classes  we  have  spoken  of — the  moraUdy  thinking  ho 
does  not  need  regeneration ;  the  hmnoraUsty  Avaiting  idly 
for  regeneration.  ^Vould  that  you  both  Avould  study 
this  history.  Ye  moralists,  who  think  that  if  you  do  as 
well  as  others  you  will  receive,  as  of  merit,  the  life  ever- 
lasting, behold  this  Centurion,  so  elevated  above  all  his 
Gentile  fellows  in  his  whole  manner  of  life,  that  he 
seems  in  the  full  exercise  of  all  Christian  graces.  And  his 
biography  reads  like  a  beautiful  model  of  the  true  Chris- 
tian character,  and  yet  wrestling  all  the  while  in  heaven- 
besieging  prayer,  as  if  his  only  hope  of  salvation  was  in 
God's  converting  grace.  And  you,  too,  vaitcrs  for  mir- 
acleSj  who  say  you  are  willing  to  be  Christians,  and  Avish 
you  Avere  Christians.  You,  it  may  be,  honestly  pray  God 
at  times  that  He  truly  make  you  Christians,  and  yet  d(» 
not  at  once  begin  to  Ha'c  like  Christians,  behold  hoAv  at 
once,  altogether  l^efore  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  this 


134  THE  CENTURION. 

Gentile  soldier  began  a  life  of  earnest  and  eonstant  con- 
formity to  God's  law.  Oh !  stndy  this  record  and 
le^arn,  both  of  yon,  the  trne  philosophy  of  the  plan  of 
salvation ;  that  there  is  something  that  you  can  do  and 
something  that  you  can  not  do  in  this  work  of  regenera- 
tion, and  that  the  only  way  to  prevail  with  God  to  do 
His  work  is  an  instant  and  earnest  diligence  in  the  doing 
of  your  own  part.     Now,  this  leads  us  to  consider, 

Secondly,  the  instrumentality  of  salvation,  as  set  forth 
in  the  text,  i,  c,  the  means  w^iereby  man's  conversion  is 
accomplished.  This,  of  course,  all  Bible  readers  know 
to  be  a  preached  Gospel.  Everywhere  is  this  truth  set 
forth  in  revelation,  that  in  Christ  crucified  is  our  only 
salvation.  Apart  from  that,  by  two  insurmountable  bar- 
riers is  man  hemmed-in  to  destruction. 

I.  By  the  holiness  of  the  Divine  nature. 

II.  By  the  sinfulness  of  the  human  nature. 

The  first  causes  God  to  hate  the  workers  of  iniquity ; 
the  second  causes  the  worker  of  iniquity  as  truly  to  hate 
God.  An  irreconcilable  antagonism  exists  on  both  parts, 
Avhich  is  done  away  by  Christ's  death,  and  by  that  only. 
It  reconciles  God  to  man  by  satisfying  His  holy  laAv. 
It  reconciles  man  to  God  by  such  a  gracious  revelation 
of  His  love  as  melts  and  breaks  even  the  heart  of  ada- 
mant. This  truth  everywhere  the  Bible  teaches,  but  no- 
where else,  it  seems  to  me,  more  impressively  than  in  the 
narrative  of  the  text. 

Consider  it  a  moment  as  exhibited  in  the  conversion  of 
Cornelius.  The  prayers  and  alms  of  the  Gentile  had 
gone  up  for  a  memorial  before  God.  The  man  had  done 
his  work,  and  now  God  is  to  do  His  work.  But  how? 
With  what  means  or  instrument?     By  a  direct  and  im- 


THE  CENTURION.  135 

mediate  miracle  ?  By  giving  gracious  efficacy  to  such 
truths  as  the  Centurion  ah^ady  understood?  No^ 
indeed !  but  in  a  way  and  Avith  an  instrumentality  that 
can  not  seem  to  us  but  most  marvelous.  We  stand  irt 
thought  with  the  devout  Gentile  as  he  wrestles  with  God 
for  this  great  blessing.  As  Ave  learned  in  a  subsequent 
verse,  he  had  spent  all  the  day  in  acts  of  solemn  worship^ 
and  now,  at  the  ninth  hour,  his  whole  soul  seems  hun- 
gering and  thirstino:  after  this  mysterious  righteousness 
of  God.  He  had  striven  in  vain,  Avith  all  the  strength 
that  was  in  him,  to  attain  true  peace  of  conscience  and 
joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  noAv,  in  earnest  prayer, 
casts  the  whole  Avork  on  God.  Yes,  and  here  and  noAv 
his  prayer  is  to  be 'answered.  Behold  !  the  heavens  are 
opened.  A  glorious  angel  descends.  Yes,  it  hath  come 
— that  rcA^elation  so  AA^aited  for  and  prayed  for.  And 
methinks  you  can  almost  see  the  face  of  the  Avrapt  Gen- 
tile glowing  Avith  mingled  aAve  and  rapture  in  expecta- 
tion of  the  blessed  Avords  that  celestial  visitant  is  about 
to  utter.  Oh,  Avhat  glorious  truth  he  aAvaits  to  hear 
about  immortality  and  eternal  life,  about  heaven  and 
about  God  !  What  songs  the  angel  might  have  sung  !. 
And  yet  what  does  he  hear  ?  Alas  for  his  expectation  !. 
he  hears  no  Avord  about  any  of  these  high  mysteries^ 
Not  a  word  about  heaven,  not  a  word  even  about  salva- 
tion. The  angel's  message  seems  all  of  the  earth,  eartliT, 
Hearken,  "  There  is  a  tanner's  house  by  the  seaside  in 
Joppa,  and  in  it  lodgeth  an  Apostle  of  God.  Send  thou, 
therefore,  for  Simon,  ichose  surname  is  Peter,  and  he 
shall  teach  thee  J' 

And  this  is  all.     Alas  for  the  kindly  hope  of  the  de- 
vout Gentile !     This  the  whole  burden  of  the  revelation 


136  THE  CENTURION. 

of  the  angel  sent  from  God's  glorious  presence  in  an- 
swer to  prayer ;  this  all  the  eommunication  from  the 
Eternal  One,  for  which  so  long  he  had  waited  and 
prayed — to  learn  of  "  a  poor  Jishernian  that  lodgeth  in 
JoppaT^  Yes,  this  was  all.  But  this  was  enough. 
That  shining  seraph  might  have  taught  glorious  lessons, 
wondrous  truths  about  God  and  the  throne  of  God  and 
the  spheres  and  types  of  the  higher  life  that  peoples  eter- 
nity ;  but  not  these  the  truths  just  then  most  needed  by 
that  wrestling  mortal  spirit.  Salvation  was  what  he 
wanted — some  way  in  which  a  sinful  nature  might  be- 
come holy,  and  fallen  man  be  reconciled  unto  the  Infi- 
nite Jehovah.  Not  visions  of  heaven,  but  an  open  way 
unto  heaven,  the  Gospel,  the  glad  news  of  salvation,  the 
precious,  soul-saving  story  of  Christ  and  Him  crucified. 
And  this  no  angel  dared  utter.  From  lips  of  clay  alone, 
in  words  of  mortal  man,  from  a  ministry  of  the  very  hu- 
man nature  linked  to  the  Divine  in  the  Incarnation, 
thence  alone  might  come  the  revelation  of  this  great  mys- 
ter}'-  of  Godliness.  'And  as  the  Divine  Son  took  not 
on  Him  the  nature  of  angels,  so,  though  angels  might 
-jniiiaister  unto  the  heirs  of  salvation,  they  might  not  utter 
words  making  men  heirs  of  salvation.  And  so  was  the 
angel's  message  the  most  blessed  God  could  send  ;  for, 
though  the  seraph  might  have  taught  lessons  of  truth 
about  all  the  high  things  of  immensity  and  eternity,  that 
would  have  enraptured  an  unfallen  mortal,  yet  what  this 
poor  convicted  sinner  wanted  was  a  lesson  of  pardon,  of 
justification,  of  a  way  opened  for  fallen  man  to  God's 
mercy -seat,  God's  palace  of  life  and  love.  And  there- 
fore, better  than  all  else  that  angelic  voices  could  utter, 
were  these  simple  words  — "  There  lodgeth  one,  vhose 


THE  CENTURION.  137 

."iiirname  is  Peter,  by  the  seaside  in  Joppa  /"  It  was  by 
the  Gospel  of  Christ  only  that  the  soul  of  this  Gentile 
ooiild  be  made  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in 
light.  And  therefore  the  vision  of  the  angel  was  only 
the  forerunner  of  one  more  blessed  ;  for  better  in  that 
Gentile's  house  than  the  shining  wings  of  the  angel,  were 
the  weary,  way-worn  feet  of  that  humble  herald  of  the 
Cross. 

And  verily  there  is  set  forth  here,  as  nowhere  else,  the 
solemn  importance,  the  awful  influences  of  this  ministry 
of  reconciliation.  In  the  light  of  this  record,  these 
places  of  Gospel  utterance  ought  to  seem  very  sanctuaries, 
the  very  house  of  God,  the  very  gate  of  Heaven. 

How  it  should  make  the  Gospel  ]n*eacher  tremble,  to 
feel  that  no  angel  out  of  heaven  dare  stand  where  he 
stands,  and  speak  the  words  he  speaks  ;  and  the  while 
render  him  careful,  as  for  his  life  and  soul,  that  he 
mingle  no  thought  of  carnal  philosophy,  no  thought,  even 
if  it  were  of  an  angelic  intellect,  with  the  truth  as  it  is 
in  Jesus,  just  to  remember  that  even  that  shining  One 
out  of  heaven  dared  not  beguile,  even  with  eternal  reve- 
lations, a  poor  soul  only  hungering  for  the  bread  that 
came  down  from  heaven.  And  how  it  should  render 
these  seats  wherein  you  sit  places  girt  about  with  eter- 
nal solemnity,  just  to  think  that  you  are  there  listening 
to  words  of  deeper  moment  and  more  tremendous  influ- 
ence upon  your  immortal  welfare  than  any  words  even 
Gabriel  could  speak,  were  he  standing  here  in  his  glory. 
And  how  it  should  magnify  all  our  conceptions  of  the 
preciousness  of  this  Gospel,  and  send  us  forth  to  gather 
these  perishing  multitudes  within  its  precious  sound, 
and  excite  us  to  give  it  free  course  and  full  glory  over 


138  THE  CENTURION. 

all  the  earth,  to  remember  how  it  is  fraught  unto  the- 
suifering  creature  man  with  a  greater  blessedness  than 
all  that  GocVs  shining  ones  could  bring  down  out  of 
heaven.  So  that  just  to  send  the  missionary  of  the 
Cross  to  the  dark  places  of  the  earth — to  man's  sorrowful 
house  and  man^s  sinful  heart — is  a  work  of  greater 
mercy  than  if  you  could  send  to  minister  and  abide  in 
every  such  dwelling,  one  of  God's  brightest  angels  in 
glory  and  power.     Passing  this,  let  us  consider, 

Thirdly^  the  efficient  cause  of  salvation.  Important 
as  the  Gospel  is,  it  is  seen  here  to  be  only  an  instrument. 
If  only  uttered  by  man  without  an  attending  Divine  in- 
fluence, it  is  as  powerless  to  save  as  the  poor  truths  of 
philosophy.  All  this  is  most  impressively  taught  in  this 
record. 

The  direction  of  the  angel  to  Cornelius  is  instantly 
complied  with.  And  we  can  well  imagine  the  im- 
patience wherewith  the  Gentle  awaited  the  coming  of 
the  unknown  man  from  Joppa,  whose  herald  was  an 
angel.  We  are  indeed  scarcely  surprised  that  at  his  ap- 
proach (supposing  one  thus  announced  from  heaven  must 
be  more  than  a  man — perhaps  a  Christ)  Cornelius  fell 
down  at  Peter's  feet  and  worshiped  him.  And  we  can 
picture  to  ourselves  the  silent,  absorbing,  enrapturing,, 
and  almost  awful  expectancy  with  which  lie  awaited  the 
first  words  of  this  Apostolic  man  who  had  come  to  him 
commissioned  of  heaven  to  speak  truths  which  no  angel 
dared  utter. 

And  we  can  not  avoid  the  impression  that  at  first  the 
Centurion's  feeling  was  disappointment.  Accustomed 
to  the  brilliancy  of  the  old  Roman  eloquence,  and  ex- 
pecting truths  gloriously  supernatural  from  this  heaven- 


THE  CENTURION,  139 

commissioned  stranger,  the  simple  and  unadorned  narra- 
tive of  this  plain  fisherman  of  Galilee  was  not  what  he 
expected.  He  listened  for  some  wonderful  revelation. 
He  heard  only  in  plainest  speech  the  story  of  Jesus  of 
Nazareth,  how,  anointed  of  God,  He  went  about  doing 
good,  and  was  hanged  on  a  tree,  and  was  raised  from  the 
dead,  and  that  whosoever  believed  on  Him  should  have 
remission  of  sin.  Surely  this  was  not  what  he  looked 
for,  and  yet  it  was  all  that  he  wanted.  Remission  of 
sin!  Yes,  that  Avas  his  mighty  need.  And  as  that  stu- 
pendous truth  of  salvation  fell  on  his  ear,  suiidenly 
(showing  that  now  God's  great  purpose  of  grace  was  to  be 
fulfilled  in  him,  and  that  through  that  simple  Gospel,  as  a 
channel,  was  to  be  poured  upon  his  enraptured  soul  the 
full  flowings  of  God's  mercy),  as  amid  the  glories  of 
Pentecost,  the  power  of  God  fell  on  them.  Tlie  simple 
Gospel  of  Christ  was  felt  to  be  salvation.  The  Gentile's 
heart  melted  in  love,  and  his  soul  swelled  with  the  rap- 
ture of  the  higher  spiritual  life,  and  he  was  bathed  in 
the  very  effluence  and  effulgence  of  the  Infinite  and 
Eternal  One — a  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  of  fire. 
And  of  all  this  the  practical  lesson  is,  that  all  true 
conversion  is  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Without  it 
there  can  be  no  salvation.  There  may  be  all  outward 
moralities — almsgiving  and  ritual  worship  and  daily 
prayer  and  ecstatic  raptures,  as  of  bright  angel-visits. 
Yea,  there  may  be  even  the  most  solemn  and  earnest 
preaching  of  the  true  Gospel,  and  it  will  in  the  end 
prove  to  be  no  more  than  the  sweep  of  winds  over  the 
awful  valley  of  vision,  if  God  send  not  through  the 
channel  of  ordinances  the  flowing  of  His  grace,  and  the 
poor,  lost  soul  be  not  sanctified  by  the  heavenly  baptism. 


140  THE  CENTURION. 

These,  then,  are  the  simple  lessons  of  the  text — 

1.  That  for  any  genuine  work  of  grace,  either  in  an 
individual  or  a  church,  there  must  be  not  only  solemn 
preaching  and  earnest  prayer,  but,  as  well,  diligent  pre- 
paration. 

2.  That  this  preparation  consists  in  at  once  begin- 
ning or  resuming  the  performance  of  all  Christian 
duties. 

3.  That  just  so  soon,  but  never  until  then,  as  men 
have  done  their  part,  God  will  do  His  part. 

And  the  application  of  these  truths  is  two-fold. 

1.  To  God's  own  children.  We  are  approaching 
the  communion.  We  need  a  revival  of  pure  and  unde- 
ftled  religion.  We  want  sinners  converted.  We  want 
a  baptism  of  the  Ploly  Ghost,  not  a  spasm,  a  sensation. 
Especially  do  we  desire  that  our  beloved  kindred  and 
neighbors  and  friends  should  become  disciples  of  Jesus 
and  members  of  His  Church.  And  our  text  teaches  us 
that  it  is  not  enough  to  pray  for  them,  or  to  get  a  whole 
church  to  pray  for  th6m,  or  even  to  go  up  to  the  great 
assemblies  of  God's  people.  Before  we  can  pray  for 
them  with  any  hope,  and  before  we  can  honestly  ask 
others  to  pray  for  them,  we  must  first  do  our  own  duty 
to  them.  Just  what  Peter  did  for  Cornelius  when  he 
went  t;)  him  personally,  and  in  his  own  house,  sur- 
rouudod  only  by  his  own  kinsfolk,  spake  to  him  of 
salvation,  and  won  him  to  Christ.  And  letting  alone 
the  application  of  this  truth  to  others,  I  am  persuaded, 
dear  brethren  and  sisters,  that  if  you  individually 
Would  make  trial  of  this  thing,  each  one  of  you  selecting 
.some  impenitent  neighbor  or  friend  or  beloved  one,  and 
S[)eaking  to  them  earnestly,  as  Peter  did  to  Cornelius, 


THE  CENTURION.  141 

a  hundred  souls  would  be  converted  at  once,  and  Zion 
built  up,  and  your  Saviour  glorified. 

The  other  application  of  the  text  is  to  those  out  of 
Christ.  I  am  sure  I  speak  to  some  who  wish  they  were 
Christians,  who,  perhaps,  sometimes  pray  that  God  will 
convert  them.  Xow,  the  text  teaches  you  w^hose  is  the 
fault  and  why  the  failure.  If  you  want  to  be  Chris- 
tians, you  are  not  to  wait  till  you  feel  some  miraculous 
change  within  you.  You  must  begin  just  as  you  are  to 
live  and  act  as  Christians.  Go  home  to-day,  and  pray 
for  yourselves  ;  break  off  your  knowm  sins  ;  study  your 
Bible.  If  you  are  a  parent,  call  your  family  together, 
and  pray  with  and  for  them.  When  on  the  morrow 
you  go  to  your  business,  go  as  honest  men,  to  make 
manifest  in  every  act  of  your  lives  great  religious  prin- 
ciples ;  go,  in  short,  and  so  live  that  your  record  shall 
be  just  that  of  Cornelius.  Not  that  he  lived  like  a 
heathen  till  God  converted  him,  nor  that  he  lived  like 
a  hypocritical  Pharisee,  for  a  pretence  making  long 
prayers,  while  he  devoured  widows'  houses,  serving 
Satan  secretly  six  days  of  the  week,  and  the  Lord  on 
the  Sabbath  with  noisy  demonstration,  but  that  he  was 
"a  devout  man,  fearing  the  Lord,  doing  good  among  the 
people,  and  praying  to  God  always.^^  And  then,  and 
not  till  then,  as  sure  as  God  liveth,  will  your  experience 
be  like  that  of  Cornelius.  Then,  then,  will  the  blessed 
Saviour  meet  with  you  in  His  life-giving  grace.  Your 
hard  heart  will  be  broken  in  penitent  love,  and  you 
Avill  have  a  sense  of  forgiven  sin,  and  the  whisper  of  an 
approving  conscience,  and  the  peace  of  God  passing  all 
understanding,  and  a  faith  as  an  evidence  of  things 
unseen,  making  heaven  a  great  reality,  and  hope  as  an 


142  THE  CENTURION. 

anchor,  holding  you  fast  in  every  storm,  and  a  joy  as  of 
a  child  of  God,  and  an  heir  of  eternal  glory.  And  you 
will  be  a  new  man  in  a  new  world  under  those  Divine 
influences  and  efauences— "  a  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
mid  a  baptism  of  fire.'^ 


OUR  HEIRSHIP. 

'•  If  children f  then  heirs' — Romans  viii,  17. 

"^  testament  is  of  force  after  rneti  are  dead."" — Hebrews  IX.  17. 

AVe  have  heretofore  considered  these  texts  separately. 
We  put  them  together  to-night  for  the  sake  of  a  differ- 
ent range  of  thought  and  a  particular  practical  applica- 
tion. The  first  declares  that  all  true  Christians  are 
co-equal  heirs  of  God.  The  second  brings  the  whole 
heirship  under  the  tender  metaphor  which  is  so  appro- 
priate to  our  circumstances  as  a  church,  which  has  just  set 
forth  sacramentally  the  death  of  the  Incarnate  God. 

We  have  met  here  to-night  as  heirs  succeeding  to  the 
possession  of  an  estate  upon  the  decease  of  the  owner. 
On  those  former  occasions  we  examined  the  exegetical 
question  whether  the  Greek  word  in  the  second  text 
should  be  "  testament "  or  "  covenant/'  and  showed  that 
according  to  either  rendering  the  same  great  truth  was 
expressed,  that  Christ's  death  was  necessary  for  the  sal- 
vation of  men.  We  do  not  propose  to  repeat  that  train 
of  thought.  Enough  for  our  present  purpose,  to  remind 
you  that  here  Paul  brought  the  whole  matter  under  the 
graphic  figure  of  a  property  bequeathed  to  heirs,  which 
bequest  takes  effect  upon  the  death  of  the  owner.  His 
argument  carefully  sets  forth  all  the  legal  conditions  of 
such  a  transaction. 

1.  A  large  property. 

2.  A  proprietor  with  undisputed  title. 

3.  The  fact  of  this  owner's  death  legally  established. 


1-14  OUR  HEIRSHIP. 

4.  A  will  or  bequest,  either  oral  or  written,  accord- 
ing to  forms  of  law,  attested  by  unimpeachable  wit- 
nesses. 

Such  is  salvation  secured  to  every  believer  by  the 
death  of  Christ. 

Now,  keeping  in  view  this  striking  metaphor,  its  ap- 
plication to  ourselves  is  most  appropriate  and  touching. 
It  is  the  custom,  at  least  in  older  countries,  very  soon 
after  the  death  of  any  large  proprietor,  for  all  his  rela- 
tives, who  by  request  attended  his  obsequies,  to  come  to- 
trether  in  the  old  mansion,  and  then  his  last  will  and 
testament  is  produced  and  opened  and  read,  that  every 
heir  may  know  what  their  deceased  kinsman  has  left 
them.  And  so  we,  having  in  this  sacrament  beheld  the 
death  of  our  dear  Lord  and  kinsman,  have,  as  it  were, 
now  re-assembled  in  His  own  house  to  behold  the  open- 
ing of  His  will,  and  learn  what  He  hath  bequeathed 
to  us,  His  heirs,  that  we  may  cherish  grateful  memories 
of  our  Benefactor,  and  rejoice  together  in  view  of  our 
own  rich  leoracv.  Thus  regarded,  these  texts  are  sugj- 
gestive  of  many  practical  lessons.     We  have  here, 

F'lrsL  A  lesson  about  brotherly  love.  Surely  if  there 
be  any  circumstances  in  which  members  of  the  same  fam- 
ily should  truly  love  one  another,  they  are  just  those 
represented  in  the  text.  We  hear  sometimes  of  men 
quarreling  in  such  cases.  We  hear  of  envyings  and  an- 
imosities growing  out  of  such  bequests.  We  hear,  in- 
deed, of  dissatisfied  kinsfolk  attempting  to  render  void 
the  codicil,  or  even  "  break  the  will ''  of  the  deceased 
person,  and  though  all  this  is,  in  certain  cases  of  mani- 
fest incompetency,  proper  and  right,  yet  when  the  val- 
idity and  authenticity  of  the  will  are  fully  established, 


OUR  HEIRSHIP.  145 

the  wishes  of  the  testator  clearly  understood,  and  when 
immense  wealth  has  been  so  equitably  and  impartially 
distributed  as  to  render  every  heir  absolutely  affluent, 
then  surely  such  exhibitions  of  animosity  and  envy  are 
unseemly  and  monstrous. 

!N^ow,  just  such  are  all  unchristian  contentions  in  the 
Church  of  Christ.  AVhether  in  the  form  of  discords  in 
the  same  particular  congregation,  or  of  sectarian  bigot- 
ries in  the  one  general  Church,  these  things  are  not 
merely  painful;  they  are  disgraceful;  they  are  monstrous. 
They  are  manifestations  of  anger  by  the  death-bed  of 
a  common  relative.  They  are  efforts  to  impeach  the 
validity  of  the  last  Avill  and  testament  of  a  munificent 
Benefactor.  It  was  in  the  poAver  of  this  very  thought 
that  Paul  so  rebuked  the  disgraceful  controversies  in  the 
Corinthian  Church.  ^^  Let  there  be  no  divisions  amono^ 
you,  for  Christ  is  not  divided.  Let  there  be  no  self- 
glorying  strifes  among  you,  for  all  things  are  yours,"  i.  e., 
yours  in  common,  left  equally  to  you  all  by  the  dying 
Saviour,  as  an  individual  inheritance. 

^'All  things  are  yoursJ'  There  is  not  a  word  in  the 
whole  dying  testament  of  Christ  about  any  special  be- 
quests to  Presbyterians  or  Methodists  or  Episcopalians 
or  Baptists.  ^^All  things  are  yoursJ^  Yours  in  com'mon. 
You  are  all  only  a  beloved  circle  and  family  of  relatives, 
left  to  dwell  together  for  the  j^resent  in  the  same  old 
paternal  mansion,  heirs  together  of  the  same  immense 
and  ineffable  inheritance.  And  surely  in  such  condi- 
tions any  individual,  any  congregation,  any  denomina- 
tion of  professing  Christians,  presuming  to  cherish  ani- 
mosities, or  to  put  forth  claims  of  supremacy,  or  in  any 
way  to  promote  dissension  in  the  Body  of  Christ,  is 


14G  OUI^  HEIRSHIP. 

simply  a  disgrace  to  the  Church,  yea,  a  disgrace  to 
human  nature.  Oh  that  God  would  bring  all  His  dear 
children  under  the  power  of  this  simple  thought !  You 
are  all  heirs  together  of  the  salyation  procured  by  the 
dying  Christ.  He  has  left  to  you  all  in  common  His 
immense  possessions.  You  are  only  one  family,  living 
together  in  the  same  house.  Therefore,  "  Utile  child ren^ 
love  one  another  F^     Passing  this,  we  have  here, 

ScconcUi/y  A  lesson  about  love  to  Jesus.  I  do  not 
know  any  emblem  more  powerful  to  quicken  the  affec- 
tions than  this  in  the  text.  The  death  of  a  testator. 
The  decease  of  a  near  relative,  who  has  left  us  in  his 
will  heirs  to  unbounded  possessions.  And  this  is  just 
what  Jesus  seems  to  us  to-day.  He  came  into  this 
world,  and  assumed  our  nature,  atoned  for  our  sins,  paid 
all  our  enormous  debts,  just  that  we  might  become  His 
kinsfolk  and  heirs,  and  He  died,  just  that  His  last  will 
and  testament  might  go  into  effect,  and  we  become  pos- 
sessed of  His  immense  possessions,  all  the  riches  of  His 
earthly  grace,  all  the 'treasures  of  His  heavenly  glories. 
And  who  of  us  can  fail  to  love  the  Kedeemer  now  ? 

Everything  we  have  on  earth  or  in  heaven  we  owe  to 
His  death.  These  homes,  w^ith  their  appliances  of  com- 
fort and  ministries  of  affection,  are  ours,  because  "the 
Son  of  Man  had  not  where  to  lay  His  head."  Our  pre- 
pai'cd  palaces  in  heaven,  wherein  we  are  to  reign  forever 
as  kings  unto  God,  are  ours,  because  He  who  from  eter- 
nity lay  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father  descended  to  igno- 
miny and  this  death  on  the  cross,  that  we  might  be 
received  into  glory,  and  sit  with  Him  on  His  throne. 
Oh  that  God  would  bring  this  emblem  of  the  text 
powerfully   upon  every   heart!     The   blessed   Saviour 


OUR  HEIRSHIP.  147 

died  that  He  might  leave  us  rich  in  the  possession  of  His 
immense  dominions.  Where  there  is  a  testament  there 
must  be  of  necessity  the  death  of  the  testator.  But  now, 
passing  all  these  and  many  like  truths  suggested  by  this 
emblem,  as  only  preparatory  to  the  text's  especial 
thought,  let  us  learn  here, 

Tldnlly,  and  chiefly,  a  lesson  of  grateful  joy  in  view 
of  our  Christian  immunities.  We  are  here  as  the  heirs, 
as  near  and  dear  kinsfolk,  to  open  His  last  will  and  tes- 
tament, and  learn  Avhat  lie  hath  bequeathed  us.  Here  it 
is,  the  precious  document  written  by  the  Divine  hand, 
signed  by  the  beloved  name,  attested  by  the  unimpeach- 
able witness  of  all  the  Divine  Persons,  pronounced  au- 
thentic and  valid  by  the  Supreme  Tribunal  of  the  uni- 
verse. 

Let  us  reverently,  lovingly,  loosen  the  scroll,  and 
read  out  all  its  bequests  and  provisions.  Of  course  we 
have  fo-night  no  space  for  details  and  items.  We  have 
just  said,  and  on  a  former  occasion  enlarged  upon  the 
thought,  that  in  this  whole  blessed  sacrament  there  are 
no  special  bec|uests  to  any  particular  denomination  of 
Christians.  But  we  would  not  be  understood  that  it 
contains  no  such  bequest  to  individual  believers  ;  for,  in- 
deed, it  abounds  with  them.  For,  to  go  no  further,  just 
remember  how  beautifully  Paul  puts  this  very"  thought, 
when  he  says  that  God's  dear  children  "m/ierz7  the 
promises.''^ 

And  these  promises  are  not  so  much  a  general  bequest 
as  special  legacies ;  and  it  seems  to  me  that  in  all  human 
language  there  is  nothing  so  touching  as  special  legacies. 
Go  read  the  last  wills  and  testaments  of  the  great  men 
of  all  time,  of  those  old  heroes  of  Seventy-six,  of  the  im- 


148  OUR  HEIRSHIP. 

mortal  geniuses  who  preceded  them,  and  you  will  find 
them  filled  with  such  loving  words  as  these,  "  I  give  my 
dear  son  my  portrait  by  a  great  artist.  I  give  to  my 
honored  mother  the  old  Bible  she  gave  me  when  I  was  a 
child.  I  bequeath  to  my  beloved  daughter  my  old  sil- 
ver service.  I  give  to  my  dear  wife  my  household  fur- 
niture and  library."  Oh  I  it  is  the  small  details  of  the 
testament  that  show  how  tlie  faces  and  names  of  every 
relative  had  a  tender  place  in  tlie  man's  heart. 

And  so  it  is  of  God's  special  promises,  as  items  in  this 
otherwise  general  testament.  They  are  all  of  them  spe- 
cial. Draw  near,  ye  kinsfolk  of  Jesus,  while  I  read  a 
few  of  them.  Come,  thou  poor  man,  pressed  down  with 
temporal  wants,  here  is  a  promise  Christ  has  given  you 
— "  The  Lord  is  thy  Shepherd  ;  thoit  shall  notwant^  Is 
not  that  like  an  old  signet  ring?  Come,  you  poor  or- 
phan-child, whose  father  and  mother  are  in  the  grave, 
hearken  to  the  Divine  promise,  '^  /  tvlll  be  a  Father  to 
youJ^  Is  not  that  better  than  any  golden  ornament  ? 
Come,  you  mourners  over  some  beloved  grave,  here  is  a 
precious  promise  for  you,  "  Youi'  son,  yoar  parent,  your 
brother,  shall  rise  agaia^  For  how  much  will  you  sell 
that  blessed  promise  ?  Come,  every  afflicted  soul,  here 
is  your  promise,  ^'  Your  liglit  affliction  is  worhing  out  for 
you  an  eternal  weight  of  glory ^  Does  not  that  seem 
like  a  crown  jewel?  Come,  every  poor,  conscience- 
stricken  sinner,  here  is  your  promise, "  Though  your  sins 
are  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  ichite  as  snoicJ^  Come,  every 
distressed  believer,  here  is  your  promise,  '^  My  grace  is 
sufflcknt  for  you^  ^^  As  your  day  is,  .s-o  shall  your 
strength  be^  Is  not  that  more  precious  than  a  service 
of  silver  ? 


OUR  HEIRSHIP.  149 

• 

I  have  no  time  now  for  detail.  Take  your  own 
Bible — God's  testament  to  His  children — and  it  reads 
just  like  the  items  of  special  bequests  to  the  individual 
kinsfolk.  ^^  This  old  picture  to  my  son  ;  this  bright 
jewel  to  my  daughter ;  this  cherished  keep-sake  to  my 
mother.''  Thanks  unto  God  for  these  special  individual 
promises — promises  meeting  every  Christian's  want, 
})lanting  l)Iessings  in  anticipation,  as  tents  of  angels 
awaiting  our  coming,  in  every  dark  place  or  bright 
place  to  wliich  our  mortal  feet  shall  come. 

But  we  can  not  linger  over  tliem.  We  are  concerned 
just  now,  not  with  tliese  codicils  of  special  legacies,  but 
with  the  grand,  general  testament.  And  how  like  a 
will  of  human  love  it  reads. 

^''All  the  rest  and  residue  of  my  estate^  real  and  personal, 
I  leave  imdlvlded  to  my  dear  sons  and  daughters.^^  Hark 
to  the  general  item  as  found  in  Paul's  copy  (we  explained 
it  before).  '^  All  tilings  are  yours  J'  Yes,  absolutely  all 
things — all  things  temporal,  all  things  eternal,  all  things 
here,  all  things  hereafter ;  all  yours,  yours,  not  this 
son's  or  that  dauo;hter's  but  vours,  all  in  common.  But 
mark  !  Though  there  is  here  no  designation  of  the  in- 
dividual legatees,  there  is  a  comprehensive  schedule  of 
the  glorious  possessions  which  make  up  the  common 
inheritance.  Hark  how  Paul  puts  it,  "  All  things  are 
yours  " — the  world,  i.  e.,  the  present  world,  this  revolv- 
ing planet,  wherein  our  dear  Lord  once  lived  ;  the  very 
mansion  in  which  He  sojourned  ;  and  all  things  present, 
all  the  world's  appliances  and  appointments,  its  rich 
furniture,  its  costly  adornment,  its  mighty  treasure- 
vaults,  its  grand  art-galleries,  its  broad  and  lofty  cham- 
bers,  its    magnificent  pavilions,   all   the  gardens    and 


150  OUR  HEIRSHIP. 

orchards  and  vineyards  which  make  up  tlie  homestead, 
all  the  boundless  lands  and  vast  cities  which  make  u]) 
the  kingdom.  As  if  impatient  of  detail,  like  a  royal 
testator,  who,  having  itemized  a  few  splendid  bequests, 
conveys  in  a  single  sentence  all  the  residue  of  his  estate, 
so  Christ  here  gathers  all  created  things  in  one  compre- 
hensive devise — ^'  Yours  is  the  tforld,  tcith  all  its  thuir/s 
present.''' 

But  this  is  not  all.  Indeed,  as  part  of  Christ's  in- 
finite legacy,  even  this  seems  as  nothing,  for  love  it  is 
closing  the  ineffable  inventory.  "  Yours  are  all  things 
to  come,''  i.  e.,  all  things  that  are  out  of  and  beyond  and 
above  these  things  seen  and  temporal.  He  does  not  tell 
what  they  are  ;  for,  indeed,  so  long  as  we  remain  mortal 
and  sinful,  Ave  could  not  understand  His  words  if  He 
should.  A  schedule  of  the  *^ things  to  come  could  be 
written  in  the  language  of  heaven  and  read  by  the 
tongues  of  angels,  and  even  Paul  could  not  understand 
them,  for  he  tells  us  that  in  his  rapture  to  glory  "  He 
heard  unspeakable  words.''  He  tells  us  that  though 
mortal  men  have  seen  glorious  visions,  and  human  ears 
heard  seraphic  voices,  and  human  genius  imagined 
transcendent  splendor,  ''  Yet  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear 
heard,  nor  the  heart  of  man  conceived,  the  things  to 
come  which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love 
Him."  And  in  his  own  effort  to  give  his  less-favored 
fellow-disciples  some  faint  fore-shado wings  of  wdiat  they 
were,  he  could  only  speak  of  a  ''far  more  exceeding  and 
eternal  veight  of  glory.'' 

AVe  can  not  understand  it,  yet  here  it  is,  engrossed  in 
the  testament.  '^  Yours,"  as  part  of  God's  undivided 
estate,  are  all  things  to  come — yours  and  mine  and  all 


OUR  HEIRSHIP,  151 

Christians',  as  joint-heirs — all  things  which  make  up 
eternal  life  and  glory,  all  those  things  which  God  hath 
made  for  His  dear  children,  which  we  strive  to  conceive 
of  under  tlie  poor,  earthly  images  of  crowns  and  thrones 
and  kingdoms  of  immortality ;  yea,  ^^  all  things  which 
God  shall  yet  make." 

When  going  forth  from  that  Divine  Sabbath  wherein 
He  rested  from  His  creative  work.  He  shall  still  more 
wonderfully  reveal  His  infinite  wisdom  and  power  and 
love  in  such  forms  and  forces  of  natural  and  spiritual 
life  as  even  an  angel's  eye  hath  not  seen  nor  an  angel's 
heart  conceived.  "  Things  to  comeT^  To  keep  coming 
throughout  the  eternities  which  make  up  the  Divine  life. 
All  these  things  are  yours,  as  the  children  of  His  love, 
the  heirs  of  His  glory." 

We  pause  here  for  the  present,  for  it  is  not  so  much 
the  immense  value  of  this  inheritance  we  are  considering 
as  its  reality.  It  is  because  we  do  not  consider  this,  that 
Ave  so  often  go  from  this  precious  ordinance  with  little 
benefit  and  small  comfort.  Even  if  we  love  our  Lord 
tenderly,  yet  we  feel  that  we  have  been  setting  forth  His 
painful  death  for  our  sins,  and  it  seems  inapt,  yea,  un- 
feeling, to  go  away  joyful ;  and  this  is  all  wrong.  We 
have,  indeed,  been  to  the  grave  of  our  dear  Elder 
Brother,  and  yet  even  that  grave  should  have  no  powder  to 
sadden  us,  for  it  was  not  a  grave  shadowy  under  cypresses 
where  the  Beloved  lay  buried.  But  it  was  a  grave 
bright  with  the  glory  flung  from  angel  wings,  whence 
the  living  Christ  had  risen.  But  we  have  done  more 
than  go  to  His  grave.  We  have  come  back  to  His  old 
mansion,  we  have  opened  His  precious  testament,  and 
learned   how   tenderlv   Christ    hath    remembered    us. 


152  OUR  HEIRSHIP. 

What  precious  legacies  He  hath  bequeathed  us  !  How 
rich  He  has  left  us ! 

And  now  surely  it  becomes  us  to  go  forth  comforted^ 
even  in  the  shadow  of  earth's  pilgrimage  to  feel  that  its 
paths  are  greener  and  its  loads  less,  and  in  regard  of  all 
the  earthly  blessings  we  enjoy  to  find  in  every  one  a  new 
value  in  the  thought  that  they  are  Christ's  gifts  to  us. 
Oh,  how  this  thought  of  a  legacy  makes  common  things 
precious  ! 

Go  out  into  yonder  Centennial  Exposition  !  See  those 
carefully  preserved  relics  of  a  former  generation  !  Why 
do  they  seem  precious  to  their  owners  ?  That  faded 
garment,  that  tattered  flagj  that  obsolete,  coarsely-set 
jewel.  Why  are  they  so  cared  for  and  valued  ?  Why^ 
just  because  they  are  bequests.  That  old  garment  was 
folded  a  hundred  years  ago  over  a  kindred-heart.  That 
old  jewel  was  worn  by  some  ancestor  when  kings  ruled 
over  them.  That  torn  flag  floated  over  the  old  soldier 
as  he  followed  George  Washington.  They  are  legacies 
of  ancestry,  mementos' of  aflection. 

And  this  same  thought  should  endear  all  life's  com- 
mon blessings,  as  the  bequests  of  Jesus.  That  daily 
bread  on  your  board,  oh  !  it  is  Christ's  hand  that  hath 
provided  it.  That  sweet  flower  you  pluck,  it  is  Christ's^ 
who  made  it  grow  for  you.  That  bright  bird  in  the  air^ 
Christ  sent  it  to  sing  for  you.  All  these  dear  thiug.^ 
present  are  yours  only  because  Christ's  tender  hand 
wrote  them  down  in  His  will. 

But  what  is  all  this  to  the  more  enrapturing  thought 
of  the  ^^  tJilngs  to  come,^^  which  make  up  the  immense 
and  undivided  possession  bequeathed  to  us?  Oh  !  men 
and  brethren,   come  up  to   your  privileges.     Exult  in 


OUR  HEIRSHIP.  15a 

your  all-glorious  prerogatives.  What  reason,  nay,  Avhat 
right  has  any  Christian  to  depart  from  this  sacrament 
troubled,  distressed,  sorrowful  ?  If  you  are  God's  child, 
God's  heir,  then  what  would  you  have  more  ?  AVho- 
calls  my  brother  here  a  poor  man  ?  Why,  he  is  an  heir 
of  all  things.  Do  you  see  yonder  star  shining  up  in 
Heaven  ?  Well,  that  is  his  star.  Does  there  come  out 
to  the  eye  of  faith  through  this  mortal  haze  the  glory 
as  of  an  eternal  world  ?  Well,  that  is  his  glory,  his^ 
eternal  world.  Who  calls  our  sister  here  a  disconsolate 
mourner  ?  Why,  her  beloved  dead  are  waiting  for  her 
coming  in  their  own  prepared  places  in  God's  heavenly 
mansions.  Who  calls  that  dei\r  child  a  friendless  or- 
phan ?  Why,  its  Heavenly  Father  keeps  tender  watch 
and  ward  over  it,  such  as  no  mother  ever  kept  over  her 
sick  or  slumbering  infant.  Who  says  our  honored  and 
beloved  father,  lying  yonder,  helpless  and  suffering,  yet- 
smiling,  as  of  old,  into  the  dear  faces  that  keep  w^atch 
by  his  pillow ;  who  says  he  is  near  unto  death  ?  No  I 
no  !  no  !  He  is  only  nearer  than  we  unto  the  life  ever- 
lasting. There  at  his  door,  even  now,  stands  the 
chariot  of  lire,  to  bear  him  aloft  to  his  heavenly  palace 
and  throne  and  kingdom. 

Oh,  God  !  give  us  more  ^'  faith,''  the  "  evidence  of 
things  unseen,  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for.'^ 
Away  w^ith  all  tears,  all  complainings.  Smiling  looks  of 
love,  eyes  flashing,  hearts  beating  high,  voices  tri- 
umphantly singing,  these,  these,  should  be  ours  as  we 
pass  from  this  sacrament.  We  should  go  out  to  the 
world  again,  no  matter  how  cloudy  the  sky  or  how  dark 
the  night,  yet  w^e  should  go  as  the  disciples  went  from 
their  Passover-table   unto   gloomy  Gethsemane,  filling; 


154  OUR  HEIRSHIP. 

nil  the  air  with  the  great  hallelujah  of  thanksgiving. 
The  past  may  have  been  dark.  Even  the  present  may 
seem  distressing  and  desolate,  but  the  future  is  all  glor- 
ious— not  a  cloud  upon  its  sky,  not  an  undertone  in  all 
its  music.  Oh  !  look  upward,  troubled  soul.  See  how 
the  radiant  trains  pass  behind  the  thin  veil  and  flash 
through  the  transparency  !  Hark  how  the  heavenly 
voices  whisper  through  the  starry  silence  !  ^^  All  things 
we  yours  ;  all  things  are  yours.^^ 


THE  CONSCIENCE. 


'^  But  herein  Jo  I  exercise  myself,  aliuays  tj  have  a  conscience  void 
of  offence  toToard  God  and  tovuayd  nieny — AcTS  XXIV.  l6. 

There  are  few  subjects  on  which  so  mucli  has  beeu 
written  Avith  so  small  benelit  as  that  brought  before  us 
in  the  text. 

The  conscience.  AVhether  it  be  a  distinct  faculty  of 
our  nature,  or  merely  the  function  of  our  intellect  exer- 
cised upon  moral  questions  ;  whether  it  be  a  flxculty  at 
all,  or  only  an  act  or  a  habit ;  all  such  questions  haye 
been  matters  of  dispute  since  the  earliest  philosophy,  and 
all  to  so  little  practical  purpose,  that  this  very  function 
or  faculty  or  act  or  habit  (call  it  what  you  will)  has  been 
syorking  only  eyil,  and,  in  different  ages  and  countries, 
given  its  sanction  to  every  vice  and  crime  in  the  whole 
cataloo;ue  of  transs^ression.  The  reason  of  this  is,  that 
conscience  has  been  made  rather  an  object  of  curious 
speculation  than  the  subject  of  addresses.  Men  have 
written  and  spoken  of  it  rather  than  to  it. 

And  here,  perhaps,  is  one  secret  of  the  small  influence 
of  modern  moral  and  religious  reform.  Take  any  view 
of  conscience  you  may,  yet  every  man  knows  that  w^ithin 
him  there  is  either  an  element  or  movement  of  his  moral 
nature  convincing  him  of  a  difference  between  right  and 
wrong,  and  impelling  him  to  the  right  with  the  solemn 
sense  of  being  himself  a  moral  and  accountable  creature. 

And  to  this  moral  sense,  or  conscience,  all  moral 
truth  should   be   addressed.      It   bears   to   our   moral 


156  THE  CONSCIENCE. 

powers  the  same  relation  that  pure  reason  does  to  the 
intellectual.  It  sits  among  them  as  a  judge,  it  presides 
over  them  as  rulers ;  and  to  it  should  be  especially 
addressed  the  arguments  and  urged  the  appeals  of  the 
moral  advocate.  Of  course  all  other  human  faculties 
are  to  be  plied  with  true  motives.  But  until  the  con- 
science is  reached,  no  real  good  is  accomplished.  We 
may  ply  our  intellectual  batteries  upon  the  portal  of 
man's  reason  ;  we  may  approach  Avith  all  charms  of  elo- 
quence to  the  door  of  his  imagination ;  we  may  force 
our  way  even  into  the  deeper  recesses  of  his  emotions, 
and  lay  the  hand  upon  the  slumbering  affections,  and 
rouse  into  intense  power  his  mightiest  passions.  Yet, 
advancing  no  further,  we  have  but  carried  the  out-posts 
of  human  nature,  have  gained  access  only  to  the  Gentile 
courts  of  the  spiritual  temple.  And  still  within,  all  un- 
approached,  all  undisturbed,  this  great  moral  arbiter 
and  ruler  may  abide  all  unaffected  in  its  decisions,  all 
unchanged  in  its  sovereignty.  And  therefore  it  is,  that 
to  this  moral  sense  of  man  God  always  addresses  His 
truth.  Therefore  it  is,  that  Paul  represents  the  grand 
design  of  the  blood  of  Christ  to  be  to  purge  the  con- 
science from  dead  works.  Therefore  it  is,  that  in  the 
text  Paul  declares  that  in  regard  of  his  own  religious 
experience  the  grand  end  and  consummation  of  his  spirit- 
ual exertion  was  ^^  to  have  a  conscience  void  of  offence 
toward  God  and  toward  men." 

There  can  be,  therefore,  no  subject  more  important 
than  that  which  the  text  presents.  It  leads  us  to  two 
things, 

I.  The  nature,  and, 

II.  The  cultivation  of  a  good  conscience.     And, 


THE  CONSCIENCE.  157 

First.  Its  nature.  And  here  we  omit  all  metaphysics. 
Whether  It  be  a  distinct  facnlty  of  the  mind,  or  only  the 
judgment  (or,  if  you  please,  the  undivided  intellect)  act- 
ing on  moral  questions,  it  matters  not  now.  The  word 
^'  conscience  ^'  is  compounded  of  "  con  ^^  and  "  scientla,^^ 
and  means  joint-knowledge — not  only  wdiat  we  know, 
but  know  with  another;  and  the  other  knower  must  be 
God,  and  so  implies  both  a  knowledge  of  our  own  doings 
and  of  the  Divine  demands. 

A  good  conscience  is,  therefore,  one  under  whose  de- 
cisions and  authority  our  own  doings  and  the  Divine  de- 
mands are  brought  and  kept  in  harmony.      It  is  more, 

1.  Than  a  mere  natural  conscience,  for  this  w^e  have 
seen  in  the  fact  that  among  men  it  has  justified  all  iniqui- 
ties, though  it  teaches  us  that  there  is  a  diiference  between 
right  and  wrong,  yet  neither  accurately  defining  the  do- 
main of  the  right,  nor  constraining  to  abide  in  it.  Mean- 
while, it  is  distinguished  from  an  ignorant  conscience. 

2.  A  moral  sense,  wdilch,  sharing  in  the  general 
apostacy  of  our  other  faculties,  needs  regeneration  and 
culture.  Such  a  conscience  as  Saul  of  Tarsus  had  when 
conscientiously  he  persecuted  the  Church  of  God. 
Moreover, 

3.  It  is  opposed  to  a  weak  conscience.  A  moral 
sense,  which,  deciding  wisely  as  a  judge,  fails  in  authority 
as  a  sovereign,  pointing  out  the  right  way,  but  not  con- 
straining to  walk  in  it.     Of  course, 

4.  It  is  the  very  opposite  of  an  evil  conscience,  which 
is  oppressed  and  tormented  with  a  sense  of  ill-desert 
such  as  was  experienced  by  Judas  and  Herod,  by  Neb- 
uchadnezzar and  Saul.     It  is  opposed,  as  well, 

5.  To  a  hardened  conscience.     A  moral  sense,  which, 


158  THE  CONSCIENCE. 

like  all  senses,  has  tlirous^li  abuse  lost  sensibility,  "which 
the  Bible  speaks  of  as  insensible,  past  feeling,  seared,  like 
flesh  cauterized  by  a  hot  iron.  And,  above  all,  it  is  op- 
posed, 

G.  To  a  defiled  conscience.  The  moral  sense  cor- 
rupted, perverted,  even  in  its  office  as  judge,  putting 
good  for  evil  and  evil  for  good. 

We  have  already  said,  that  conscience  is  to  the  moral 
nature  what  reason  is  to  the  intellectual.  And  in  this  last 
stage  of  its  perversion  it  becomes  moral  insanity,  and 
precisely  as  intellectual  madness  actually  leads  the  man, 
all  unconsciously,  into  all  natural  peril,  so  this  spiritual 
or  moral  madness  ur^es  us  to  find  delio^ht  in  the  awful 
ways  of  death.  To  all  such  perverted  moral  conditions 
is  a  good  conscience  opposed.  Our  text  briefly  describes 
it  as  ^'  a  conscience  void  of  offence  toicard  God  and  toicard 
men^  In  regaixl  of  men,  fulfilling  the  Divine  law — 
"  To  love  them  in  thought,  word,  and  deed  as  we  love 
ourselves.'^  But,  not  satisfied  with  this  man-ward  mor- 
ality, first  and  above  all  in  regard  of  God,  believing 
all  that  He  has  spoken,  and  doing  all  that  He  requires. 

Second.  And  this  leads  us,  as  the  more  important  and 
practical  point,  to  consider,  secondly,  the  cultivation  of 
a  good  conscience.  The  Apostle  speaks  of  it  as  a  work, 
and  a  hard  work.  ^^  Herein  do  I  exercise  myself ,^^  i.  e.y 
give  myself  to  it  as  the  athlete  to  the  running.  ^'  Exercise 
myself  ahcaySy^  making  it  both  my  earnest  care  and  my 
constant  care — my  w^ork — feeling  that  this  faculty,  like 
all  faculties,  even  after  regeneration,  demanded  a  most 
earnest  and  unremitted  culture.  In  considering  the 
means  of  the  proper  cultivation  of  the  conscience,  we 
observe, 


THE  CONSCIENCE.  159 

First,  That  we  must,  as  an  incentive,  entertain  just 
notions  of  the  importance  of  the  faculty.  As  we  have 
just  said,  it  is  to  the  moral  faculty  what  reason  is  to  the 
intellectual.  It  is  the  grand  regulating  power,  preserv- 
ing the  desires  and  aifections  in  harmony  and  order.  As 
it  is  conscience,  joint-knowdedge,  %.  c,  what  we  know 
together  with  God,  it  may  be  regarded  as  that  wdiicli 
modern  theology  calls  the  faith-faculty — thilt  to  which 
revelation  is  addressed^  and  by  which  its  truths  are  ap- 
pi;ehended ;  that  wdiich  alone  remains  a  faithful  witness 
for  God  amid  all  the  insurgent  traitor  faculties  of  our 
nature.  And  so  it  may  be  regarded  as  the  soul's  Holy 
of  Holies — the  deeper  inner-sanctuary,  where  the 
Shekinah  abides  and  the  Divine  oracles  are  uttered. 
And  in  having  to  do  with  it  we  should  feel  that  w*e 
come  more  positively  than  elsewhere  into  the  Divine 
presence,  and  that  the  cultivation  of  the  reason  and  the 
memory  and  the  imagination  and  the  aifections,  impor- 
tant as  they  all  are,  hath  really  nothing  of  the  tremen- 
dous moment  of  this  discipline  and  development  of  a 
true  religious  conscience.  And  this  sense  of  the  incom- 
parable worth  of  the  faculty  will  lead  us, 

Secondlyy  to  enlighten  it.  Even  a  sincere  Christian's 
moral  sense,  while  unenlightened,  is  sure  to  make  one 
of  the  two  great  opposite  mistakes — scrupulosity  or 
recklessness,  a  too  great  or  too  little  circumspection 
about  little  things. 

(  a  ).  Some  men  have  too  little.  They  are  careful  to 
avoid  only  those  things  which  the  Word  of  God  posi- 
tively and  pointedly  declares  to  be  evil.  They  ignore 
all  consequences  of  acts.  They  care  only  to  avoid  ab- 
solute  evil,  and   not,  as   well,  the   appearance  of  evil. 


160  THE  CONSCIENCE. 

They  are  satisfied  if  only  the  bears  and  lions  are  kept 
out  of  God's  husbandry,  and  forget  that  it  is,  after  all, 
the  little  foxes  which  most  injure  the  grapes. 

(6).  Meanwhile,  they  have  too  much  scrupulosity. 
They  are  concerned  mainly  with  the  little  things,  like 
the  Italian  bandit,  doing  painful  2)enance  for  a  flesh-diet 
in  Lent,  but  giving  free  course  to  all  brutal  and  bloody 
2)assions  in  the  carnival.  They  are  sticklers  for  forms 
of  baptism,  ceremonies  and  formularies  of  worship,  to  a 
neglect  of  great  doctrines  and  great  duties.  They  are 
more  concerned  about  popular  amusements  than  inner 
spiritual  emotions.  They  pay  tithes  of  cummin,  and 
forget  God's  great  commandments.  They  strain  at  the 
gnat,  and  swallow  the  camel.  And  the  remedy  of  all 
this  is  only  such  a  thorough  education  of  the  conscience 
as  renders  it  a  nobly  comprehensive  and  symmetrical 
faculty.     This  demands, 

1.  And  above  all,  the  careful  study  of  God's  AVord  as 
the  great  directory  of  life. 

2.  The  study  of -all  moral  science.  Having  to  do  with 
all  moral  duties,  the  conscience  must  be  instructed  as  to 
the  real  qualities  of  all  things.  A  physician  can  not 
conscientiously  prescribe  for  a  disease  which  he  does  not 
understand.  An  artisan  can  not  c<>nscientiously  build  a 
house  or  fashion  a  garment  if  he  be  not  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  forms  and  fabrics.  There  must,  in  short, 
be  science  before  there  can  be  conscience.  And  so  to  a 
thoroughly  enlightened  conscience  there  is  positively 
nocessarv,  not  merely  a  knowleds^e  of  God's  written 
Word,  but  of  God's  Avorld  as  it  is  and  man's  nature  as  It 
is.  Meanwhile,  after  the  conscience  is  thus  enlightened, 
we  must. 


THE  CONSCIENCE.  161 

Thirdly,  never  violate  it.  Wlierever  it  fails  to  ap- 
prove, we  must  hesitate;  when  it  forbids,  we  must 
refrain ;  when  it  commands,  we  must  obey.  There  must 
be  admitted  no  pettifogger,  with  his  labored  special  plead- 
ing, into  this  great  spiritual  Judgment  Hall.  Every 
Avrong  done  to  it  is  a  terrific  blow  on  its  glorious  frontlet, 
benumbing  its  sensibilit^v  and  destroying  its  power. 
Therefore, 

Fourthly.  AVe  must  avoid  things  questionable.  Kot 
only  "evil,''  but  the  "appearance  of  evil.''  I  do  not 
mean  that  we  must  conform  our  moral  sense  to  every 
prejudice  of  the  bigot  or  fanatic.  A  man  who  tries  eth- 
ically to  2)lease  everybody  will  have  a  hard  time  of  it 
generally.  Jesus  came  eating  and  drinking,  according 
to  the  social  customs  of  His  day,  and  they  called  him  a 
wine-bibber.  John  neither  ate  nor  drank  like  other 
men,  and  they  said  he  had  a  devil.  The  same  men  re- 
main. The  witnesses  examined  at  the  court  of  conscience 
must  be  of  average  understanding,  and  know  and  feel 
the  nature  and  solemnity  of  an  oath.  The  Phiu'isee, 
Avith  Ills  seive  for  the  gnat,  and  the  Sadducee,  with  his 
throat  for  the  camel,  are  alike  incompetent  to  give  evi- 
dence in  its  assize. 

Common-sense,  calm  reason,  strong-hearted  honesty, 
white-robed  truth,  these  are  to  bear  testimony  ;  and 
wdien  the  verdict  is  rendered,  we  must  accept  and  abide 
it.     Meanwhile,  and  above  all. 

Fifthly.  We  must  keep  the  conscience  ever  in  intimate 
intercourse  with  God.  For,  we  repeat  it  again,  the  very 
name  of  the  faculty — tliis  joint-scientia — demands  it.  It 
is,  after  all,  no  more  than  the  soul's  "  Urim  and  Thum- 
mim,"  through  whose  jeweled  breast-plate  the  Eternal 


162  THE  CONSCIENCE. 

One  speaks.  And  therefore,  in  another  connection,  Paul 
speaks  of  commending  himself  to  the  conscience,  as  in 
the  sight  of  God,  I.  e.,  as  if  in  the  immediate  presence  of 
the  august  and  all-righteous  Jehovah. 

The  court  where  conscience  presides  is  the  Holy  of 
Holies,  where,  even  above  the  mercy-seat,  flames  out  the 
Shekinah.  The  question  to  be  answered  is,  how  should 
I  act  or  feel  or  think  if  I  saw  the  Omnipotent  Eye 
fixed  ever  upon  me  ?  I  must  do  my  business,  enjoy  my 
pleasures,  perform  my  religious  duties,  treat  God  and 
treat  man  as  if,  like  Abraham,  I  were  walking  ever  look- 
ing at  the  Celestial  City,  or  with  the  prophet  at  Chebar, 
and  saw  visions  of  God. 

This,  in  part,  and  briefly,  is  the  regimen  whereby  our 
moral  sense  should  be  disciplined  and  developed.  Thus, 
like  Paul,  must  we  exercise  ourselves,  i.  e.,  give  our- 
selves to  painstaking  and  perseverance;  yea,  exercise 
ourselves  "  always,^^  i.  e.,  not  on  Sabbath  days  and  in 
sanctuaries,  but  everywhere  and  always  "  To  have  a  con- 
science void  of  offence  toward  God  and  toward  menJ^ 
And  the  motives  to  this  duty  are  manifold  and  mighty. 

First.  Our  spiritual  life  depends  on  it.  We  may  ply 
all  the  other  faculties  with  motors,  launch  our  logic 
against  the  reason,  our  poetry  upon  the  imagination,  our 
pathos  upon  the  emotions,  our  vehemence  upon  the  pas- 
sions, and  yet,  until  we  have  reached  this  great  master- 
faculty,  we  have  only  been  doctoring  symptoms,  only 
driving  In  out-posts.  And  herein  lies  the  terrible  de- 
fect of  our  modern  piety.  It  is  a  thing  of  reason,  of 
taste,  of  emotion.  The  measure  of  our  religious  duties 
is  the  pleasure  we  take  in  them.  , 

What  we  want  Is  conscience — a  sense  of  direct  and 


THE  CONSCIENCE,  163 

personal  accountability  to  God,  a  po^ver  tliat  takes  hold 
of  the  hopes  and  fears  of  another  and  an  endless  life,  and 
works  throuii^h  and  Avith  thcni  as  motives,  which  does  not 
ask,  What  is  pleasant?  What  for  the  present  is  even, 
profitable  or  philosophic?  But  what  does  God  require 
of  me?  Which  brings  duty  up  from  this  dim  moon- 
shine of  sentiment  into  the  effulfrent'  light  that  blazes 
from  the  eternal  throne,  until  the  soul  sees  that  he 
who  turns  back  from  it  is  not  fit  for  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  and  for  want  of  this  much  of  modern  piety  is 
as  practically  Avorthless  as  shimmering  moonlight  on  a 
frozen  Lapland  lake. 

Our  positive  spiritual  life  depends  on  the  conscience. 
While  it  sleeps  undisturbed  vain  is  all  seamanship,  and 
the  imperiled  bark  will  go  down  in  the  storm,  and  all 
the  air  be  filled  with  tlie  Avild  cry  of  the  drowning  soul 
unless  he  rush,  as  the  Disciples,  to  the  Master,  crying, 
'^  A  wake  and  save,  or  we  perish  V     ]\Iean  while, 

Second.  Our  happiness  depends  on  it.  Conscience  is 
the  heart  of  true  piety,  that  faculty  that  keeps  us  in  di- 
rect connection  with  eternal  things,  and  through  which 
flows  the  hidden  life  in  Christ  into  the  human  spirit. 
And  what  true  life  can  there  be  w^here  there  is  no  vigor- 
ous heart-beat?  If  there  be  a  pitiful  and  miserable 
creature  on  earth,  it  is  what  some  one  calls  ^'  a  little  bit 
of  a  Christian,  with  only  just  enough  religion  to  keep  a 
fire  burning  under  his  conscience.^'  These  puerile,  suck- 
ling believers,  Avho  have  been  so  bedrugged  by  these  hand 
nurses  of  sensation,  tliat  their  consciences  can  bear  no 
stronger  food  than  milk  and  water  thrice  diluted,  and 
sweetened  and  imbibed  from  a  spoon. 

A  good  conscience  has  a  two-fold  office — that  of  an 


164  THE  CONSCIENCE. 

adviser  and  of  an  avenger,  to  keep  us  from  doing  wrong 
and  to  punisli  ns  f  )r  doing  wrong.  And  iu  tlie  moral 
organization  of  these  callow  and  half-fledged  believers 
the  conscience  itself  is  like  a  nestlino;  eaMet,  wkh  onlv 
a  sharp  beak  to  tear  and  torture  and  scream^  and  no  pin- 
ions to  fly.  Its  only  functions  are  of  the  a  jposte-fado 
order — never  awake  until  the  evil  is  done,  and  then 
awake  only  as  a  ravenous  avenger.  And  the  man  with 
such  a  conscience  can  not  but  be  miserable.  The  con- 
science is  not  a  guide  leading  in  progress,  but  only  a  surly 
mastiif  forever  barking  at  his  heels.  As  the  regulating 
power  of  our  moral  nature  the  function  of  conscience  is 
to  act  upon  the  desires  and  affections,  and  by  bringing 
them  into  their  just  relation  to  God,  the  Great  Moral 
Governor,  to  adjust  them  into  correspondence  and  har- 
mony in  their  places  among  themselves.  Without  this 
the  moral  man  is  like  a  poor,  dismasted,  dismantled 
wreck,  rolling  and  moving  on  engulfing  seas.  Yv'ith  this 
he  is  like  a  glorious  argosy,  a  gallant  crew  crowding  her 
deck,  and  brave  colors  streaming  from  mast  and  peak, 
and  all  her  canvas  strained  to  the  wind,  walking  the 
Avaters  like  a  thing  of  life.     Meanwhile,  and  above  all, 

Thirdhj.  Our  future.  Heaven  depends  on  it.  And 
on  this  point  it  matters  not  now  what  maybe  our  notion 
of  the  sphere  and  condition  of  the  future  life.  There 
may  or  may  not  be  for  the  regenerated  spirit  palaces  of 
beauty  and  robes  of  light,  and  for  the  im^^enitent  and 
unpardoned  sackcloth  of  hair  and  dark  caverns  of 
anguish.  And  yet  the  baldest  literallst  nmst  see  that,  as 
set  forth  iu  the  Bible,  such  things  are  regarded  only  as 
the  accessories,  and  not  the  essential  elements  of  retribu- 
tion.    Everv^vhere  revelation   affirms  the  same  truth. 


THE  CONSCIENCE.  165 

Thus  heaven  is  essentially  not  a  condition^  but  a  charac- 
ter. The  coming  of  Christ  was  to  set  up  in  tlie  human 
heart  the  heavenly  kingdom  ;  by  reproducing  the  origi- 
nal puritv  and  peace  and  joy  to  set  again  flo^vlng  all  the 
streams,  and  blooming  all  the  flowers,  and  singing  all 
the  birds  of  the  blessed  old  Paradise. 

And  as  the  Bible  everywhere  is  at  one  with  our  expe- 
rience in  the  testimony  that  holiness  is  in  itself  bliss, 
and  sin  is  in  itself  misery,  so  there  can  be  no  heaven 
to  the  impure  and  no  hell  to  the  sanctified.  And  it  is 
In  view  of  this  fact  that  the  cultivation  of  conscience  as- 
sumes an  importance  awful  and  overwhelming.  So  long 
as  it  remains  evil  and  tormenting,  so  long  there  is  no 
power  in  conditions  to  relieve  from  anguish.  Indeed,  the 
fairer  tlie  circumstances,  the  more  terrible  the  pangs. 

Herod  sat,  a  crowned  king,  at  his  voluptuous  ban- 
quet, and  they  told  him  of  a  glorious  Stranger  Avalking 
the  world  only  to  bless  and  beautify,  healing  the  sick 
and  casting  out  devils.  And  that  terrible  power  v/lthin 
transforms  that  palace  into  a  hell,  and  that  Heavenly 
Being  into  a  tormenter  ;  and  his  eye  blazed  with  the  fire 
of  the  inner  torment  as  he  cried,  ''  It  U  John  the  Baptist 
risen  from  the  dead  T^ 

And  so  take  an  unsanctlfied  nature,  even  Into  heaven, 
even  into  the  highest  of  all  the  prepared  places  in  the 
house  of  many  mansions,  and  It  would  walk  there,  as 
Nebuchadnezzar  amid  the  glories  of  his  own  imperial 
Babylon,  and  the  stone  would  cry  out  of  the  wall  and 
the  beam  out  of  the  timber  would  answer  it,  till  from 
that  terrible  xcoe  !  iroe  !  icoe  !  It  would  rush  away,  like 
the  frantic  monarch,  to  find  haunt  and  home  v/ith  the 
beast.     And  would,  oh,  would  I   had   only   power   to 


166  THE  CONSCIENCE. 

open  the  eye  of  every  iriipenitent  man  to  this  simple 
trnth  !  I  do  not  ask  you  to  read  the  Bible.  I  only  ask 
you  to  study  your  own  nature.  You  know,  for  you  feel 
that  you  have  a  conscience.  Keason  in  this  false  circle  as 
you  will,  either  that  conscience  produces  religious  fear 
or  that  such  fears  produce  conscience.  The  great  fact 
remains — a  fact  of  simple  consciousness — that  there  is 
in  your  nature  a  faculty  that  approves  when  you  do 
right  and  condemns  when  you  do  wrong. 

And  all  we  ask  is,  that  you  should  earnestly  consider. 
Take  a  torch  and  walk  through  the  chamber  of  your 
own  spu'it,  through  the  grand  portal  of  reason,  through 
the  art  gallery  of  your  imagination,  through  the  ban- 
quet-hall of  your  passion,  through  the  sweet-home-room 
of  your  affections,  till  you  come  to  that  mysterious 
inner-chamber  which  you  yourself  never  enter.  Lift 
that  massive  curtain,  and  there,  cradled  amid  thick 
shadows,  behold  a  sleeping  babe.  Kote  it  well ;  exam- 
ine it  carefully ;  it  is  not  like  your  other  faculties.  It 
remains  the  one  sole  witness  for  God  among  all  your 
drugged  and  degraded  impulses.  It  is  not  formed  and 
fashioned  like  other  passions.  Its  very  seeming  is  of  a 
creature  mighty  in  its  immortality. 

Now,  tl:at  awful  faculty  is  the  master  of  your  after  ^ 
fate.  If  you  giv-e  it  an  angel's  culture,  it  w^ill  bless  you 
as  an  angel.  If  you  give  it  infernal  culture,  it  w^ill 
torture  you  as  a  fiend.  Take  care,  then,  that  you  so  rock 
its  cradle  and  clicrish  its  liberty  that  its  whole  walk  with 
you,  side  by  side  tlirongh  the  long  journeyings  of 
eternity,  be  with  an  augel's  harp  and  song,  and  not  a 
fiend's  scream  and  lash  of  scorpions. 


A  HAPPY  PEOPLE. 


*<  Happy  is  that  people  whose  God  is  the  Lord:' — PsALMS  CXLIV,   15. 

I  ^^liall  not  detain  you  a  moment  this  morning  with 
the  text's  primitive  references.  The  Psahn  seems  to  • 
luive  been  penned  by  David  after  the  death  of  Absalom 
and  tlie  restoration  of  the  kingdom  to  peace  and  trau- 
<|uility.  It  is  divided  into  three  great  parts — a  thanks- 
giving, a  petition,  a  discussion  of  those  elements  wherein 
happiness  consists — and  winds  up  with  a  pronunciation 
of  Ir^rael's  haj^piness'as  possessed  of  all  elements  of  so- 
cial and  national  beatitudes,  and,  above  all,  as  possessed 
of  that  far  greater  blessing — having  Jehovah  for  their 
Ood — being  happy  because  of  their  numerous  agricul- 
tural and  social  and  commercial  advantages,  but  espe- 
cially and  emphatically  happy  because,  as  a  people,  their 
Ood  was  the  Lord. 

Now,  the  fitness  of  this  text  to  our  present  circum- 
stances will  be  apparent  to  you  all.  Without  recurring 
to  the  remarkable  resemblances  between  ourselves  and 
the  old  Hebrew  Commonwealth,  which  we  have  so  often 
insisted  on,  there  is  enough  in  the  peculiarities  of  our 
state  just  now  to  justify  our  selection. 

We  are  here  by  the  injunction  of  the  Executive,  to 
offer  thanksgiving  to  God  for  our  distinguishing  mer- 
cies. The  Divine  benefactions  adverted  to  in  this  proc- 
lamation are  almost  identical  with  those  which  the 
Psalmist  enumerates.  We,  like  Israel,  have  been  de- 
livered from  the  cost  and  tlie  cruelties  of  an  unnatural 


1G8  A  HAFFY  PEOPLE. 

and  most  unrighteous  war  ;  and  our  garners,  like  theirs, 
are  full,  affording  all  manner  of  stores,  and  our  cattle 
have  brought  forth  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands,  sc> 
that  as  to  our  external  relations  and  our  internal  econo- 
my, of  us,  as  of  them,  there  is  no  complaining  in  the 
streets.  And  for  these  mercies,  and  mercies  such  as 
these,  have  our  rulers  called  us  together  to  our  holy  al- 
tars to  offer  the  sacrifices  of  thanksgiving  to  the  God 
Avho  hath  vouchsafed  them. 

And  all  this  is  well,  and  all  these  should  most  heartily 
be  remembered  in  our  festival  praises.  But  yet  than  all 
this  there  is  something  better.  Good  as  is  peace  and 
good  as  is  prosperity,  yet  better  even  than  they  is  the 
God  who  bestows  them.  And  we  rejoice  before  high 
heaven,  and  call  ourselves  of  all  kindred  and  people  the 
most  richly  blessed,  j)artly,  indeed,  because  our  husband- 
ry hath  beetb  abundant  and  our  commerce  prosperous 
and  our  arms  triumphant,  and  our  sun  of  national  glory 
still  uneclipsed  and  ascendent.  Yet  as  the  favored  re- 
cipients of  tliat  Gospel  which  is  at  once  the  guardian 
and  guarantee  of  all  these  national  beatitudes,  most 
blessed  of  all  do  we  regard  ourselves,  because  "  Blessed  is 
that  people  tchose  God  is  the  Lord  J' 

The  thought,  then,  for  our  consideration  to-day  is,  the 
value  to  us,  as  a  nation,  of  the  Gospel.  And  the  form 
of  its  present  discussion  will  be,  the  necessity,  yea,  the 
positive  indispensobleness  of  evangelical  influences  to 
our  permanent  prosperity  as  a  people. 

I.  And  in  such  a  discussion  our  first  business  is  to 
show  you  how  all  these  influences  and  agencies  wherein 
infidelity  rules  as  political  safe-guards  are  altogether  in- 


A  HAPPY  PEOPLE,  169 

adequate  to  our  national  emergencies.  Take  a  few  of 
them  as  specimens. 

1.  ISTow,  perhaps,  the  most  common  ground  of  re- 
liance for  the  permanancy  of  our  free  institutions,  if  ex- 
amined carefully,  will  be  found  to  be  a  kind  of  indefinite 
idea  that  our  Government  is  the  very  perfection  of 
political  machinery,  and  contains  within  itself  a  kind  of 
self-perpetuating  power,  so  that  you  have  only  just  to 
let  it  alone,  and  it  will  go  on  Avithout  modification  oi 
hindrance  to  eternity.  In  other  words,  men  look  to 
the  Government  itself  as  the  guarantee  of  its  own  per- 
petuity. But  the  folly  of  all  such  trust  will  be  suf!i- 
ciently  apparent  if  you  just  set  one  of  these  dreamers  of 
dreams  to  tell  you  definitely  what  our  Government  is, 
and  where  our  Government  can  be  found.  Perhaps 
such  a  question  may  startle  them,  yet  press  it  neverthe- 
less. 

Where  is  the  American  Government  that  you  speak 
of  as  powerful  in  itself  to  conserve  its  own  existence  ? 
Why,  you  go  to  the  capital  of  the  nation,  expecting  to 
find  it.  You  visit  the  Bureaus  of  the  departments. 
You  go  to  the  halls  of  the  Senate  and  Representatives  ; 
you  address  the  generals  of  the  army  and  the  commo- 
dores of  the  navy ;  you  go  up  to  the  President's  house, 
and  question  its  honored  occupant,  and  every  one 
of  them  will  answer  unhesitatingly,  "  Why,  the  Gov- 
ernment is  not  here ;  the  Government  is  not  with  us.'' 
It  is  easy  enough  to  find  the  Governments  of  other 
countries.  You  will  find  it  embodied  and  incarnate 
in  the  eminent  monarch,  hemmed  in  by  ten  thousand 
bayonets.  But  travel  from  ^'  Dan  to  Beersheba  "  in  the 
midst  of  this    free  people,  and    you    can    find    nothing 


170  A  BAFFY  PEOPLE. 

prctc^nding  to  be  a  Government.  And  the  reason  Is 
niust  apparent.  You  are  carrying  the  Government 
nlong  with  you.  Americanism  exists  only  In  the  warm 
liearts  of  Hving  Americans.  American  hiws  are  but  the 
breath  in  American  nostrils.  American  Institutions  are 
i)ut  the  thoughts  and  desires  that  flit  through  American 
minds.  And  you  might  as  well  rely  on  the  perma- 
nency of  the  winds  of  heaven  as  to  rely  on  the  self-sus- 
taining power  of  free  Institutions. 

2.  Now,  next  to  this  most  Indistinct  and  unfounded 
idea,  is,  In  point  of  prevalency,  perhaps,  the  notion  that 
education  and  general  intelligence  are  to  be  the  safe- 
guards of  our  honored  nationality.  This,  perhaps,  was 
the  theory  of  our  worthy  Governor  when  he  penned 
this  message,  for  he  speaks  here  most  emphatically  of 
our  eminent  educational  advantages ;  and  yet  with  all  our 
high  regard  for  Intellectual  culture  we  should  like  of  all 
things,  to  be  told  how  mere  human  learning,  irrespective 
of  high  moral  culture,  is  to  conserve  and  perpetuate 
free  Institutions.  Americanism  Is  simply  self-govern- 
ment. 

Now,  does  the  mere  education  of  the  mind  prepare  a 
man  for  self-government  ?  Does  It  diminish  the  power 
of  his  own  passions  ?  Does  It  increase  his  love  for  his 
fellow  citizens  ?  Does  It  make  him  a  benevolent  man,  a 
self-regulating  man  ?  Alas  !  alas  !  the  Caesars  and  the 
Bonapartes  of  all  time  have  been  men  sprung  from  the 
higher  walks  of  cultivated  genius.  Discipline  unto  Its 
highest  power  the  intellect  of  a  wicked  man,  and  you 
have  only  put  a  two-edged  sword  into  the  hands  of  a 
maniac.  Education  without  Christianity  hath  ever 
proved  itself  only  a   curse.     And   tlie  bark  of  our  lib- 


A  HAPPY  PEOPLE,  171 

erties  may  as  well  rot  in  the  sea  as  to  be  driven  by  am- 
bitious storms  into  dread  shipwreck. 

But,  beside  all  this,  wl\ere  look  you  for  the.  ])rogress 
of  this  inlellectual  culture  save  in  the  prevalence  of  the 
Gospel  ?  Why,  the  simple  fact  is,  that  if  the  great  mass 
of  the  next  generations  are  able  to  read  the  very  votes 
they  deposit  in  the  ballot-box,  they  will  learn  it  in  the 
Sunday-school;  and  if  the  mind  of  that  great  host 
Avhereby  we  are  to  be  ruled  is  educated  sufficiently  to 
discern  between  the  ambitious  demagogue  and  the  honest 
man,  it  will  be  under  the  wide  influences  of  evangelical 
truth,  and  amid  the  mighty  play  of  evangelical  opera- 
tions. 

3.  And  next  to  these  we  hear  much  of  a  noble 
patriotism  as  the  safe-guard  of  our  nationality.  Kow, 
advisedly  do  we  say  it,  much  as  we  dislike  going  abroad 
on  fruitless  travel,  yet  we  would  gladly  go  to  the  ends 
of  the  world  to  behold  a  specimen  of  pure  patriotism 
that  was  absolutely  without  Godliness.  What  is  an 
unevangelical  patriotism  ?  Why,  it  is  a  thing  talked  of 
on  college  rostrums  and  in  political  harangues.  A  love 
of  all  men  in  general  and  of  no  one  man  iu  particular, 
the  very  core  and  gall  of  the  foulest  of  all  bigotries, 
political  sectarianism,  a  principle  that  will  bluster  in 
behalf  of  a  government  so  long  as  its  protection  works 
the  optimism  of  its  own  sectional  interests.  But  the 
moment  that  my  plantation  proves  profitless,  or  my 
particular  manufacture  becomes  a  commercial  drug, 
blustering  just  as  volubly.    Kow,  down  with  the  Union. 

No,  sir!  There  is  no  pure  patriotism  save  that 
which  springs  immediately  from  the  Cross  of  Christ.  And 
even  if  there  were!  What  then?     Patriotism  is  merely 


172  A  HAPPY  PEOPLE. 

an  endj  not  a  mean^.  It  may  make  me  love  my  country^ 
but  does  not  teach  me  how  to  perpetuate  its  freedom. 
Did  patriotism  save  Greece  ?  ^  Did  patriotism  preserve 
Rome  ?  Alas  !  it  but  weeps  at  the  death-bed  and  chisels 
the  urn. 

4.  Nor  is  there  any  more  of  conservative  power  in 
political  sagacity  and  the  wisdom  of  statesmanship  ;  for, 
take  this  sagacity  and  Avisdom  in  their  very  highest  style 
and  loftiest  honest}'',  and  having  to  do  with  human  nature 
wherein  a  foul  passion  carries  it  often  over  all  reason  and 
judgment,  the  result  is  at  best  a  magnificent  conjecture; 
and  he  who  trusts  thereto  for  national  safety  would 
trust  his  bark  to  a  blind  man's  guidance  when  the  ocean 
was  uncharted  and  the  night  all  stormv.  The  younger 
Pitt,  unrivaled  in  the  arts  of  statesmanship,  produces 
as  the  result  of  his  mighty  genius  two  gigantic  coalitions 
to  overthrow  the  Corsican,  and  the  conqueror  daslied  them 
in  pieces  with  his  strong  arm,  and  wielded  their  frag- 
ments as  the  sceptre  of  Pan.  There  are  latent  elements 
in  the  human  mind  eluding  the  keenest  eye  of  political 
sagacity.  And  if  there  were  really  such  a  thing  as  an 
honest  statesmanship,  its  very  mightiest  control  over  our 
gigantic  population  were  but  the  smoking  flax  on  the 
sinews  of  Samson. 

But,  then,  where,  tell  me  where  you  find  even  political 
sagacity  unwedded  to  Godliness.  Honestly  analyze,  and 
what,  after  all,  is  the  whole  staple  of  our  national  poli- 
tics? Why,  a  mere  strife  and  struggle  for  official 
emoluments.  As  the  ostensible  issue  wherewith  to  gull 
the  hearts,  the  demagogue  statesman  will  vapor  about 
the  percentage  of  a  tariff,  or  the  morality  of  a  war,  or 
the  area  of  slavery  ;  but  the  only  thing  imder  heaven- 


A  HAPPY  PEOPLE.  173 

for  which  his  statesmanship  careth  a  straw  is  the  lion's 
part  of  the  spoils,  the  honor  of  an  office,  the  outfit  of  an 
embassy. 

5.  Kor — V)e  it  observed  once  more — nor  is  there  any 
stronger  reason  to  trust  in  that  great  law  of  progress, 
a  movement  of  our  race  toward  political  and  social  per- 
fection, wliicJi  many  men  are  vaunting  as  the  guarantee 
of  our  national  perpetuity.  For  the  simple  matter  of 
fact  is,  that,  separated  from  Christianity,  there  is  no  such 
ouNvard  tendency  of  our  race  toward  a  single  tiling  that 
is  praiseworthy  ;  nay,  further  than  this  goes  the  truth, 
that,  with  all  the  savor  of  Godliness  that  is  in  the  midst 
of  us,  even  now,  the  fact  of  our  social  and  civil  progress 
is  an  unsolved  problem.  In  some  things  there  is  un- 
questionably an  qnward  movement.  There  is,  at  any 
rate,  a  vast  physical  progress.  We  travel  faster ;  we  mul- 
tiply books  more  rapidly ;  Me  live  in  houses  more  luxu- 
riantly furnished ;  we  worship  in  temples  of  a  loftier 
decoration.  The  old  Puritan's  library  was  a  Bible  and 
a  Psalm-book.  Four  miles  an  hour  was  the  maximum 
of  his  horse  power.  Fie  lived  in  a  log  house,  on  boiled 
corn  and  bacon,  and  worshiped  his  God  in  the  aisles  of 
the  wilderness.  These  things  confessedly  Ave  do  far 
better.  Physically  we  are  on  the  march  to  perfection, 
and  in  another  generation  may,  for  aught  I  know,  drive 
the  red  lightnings  in  harness  and  live  on  ambrosia,  like 
the  old  demi-gods.  But  even  in  all  this  we  find  not  the 
indication  of  progressive  humanity.  As  a  specimen  of 
the  creature  man  the  old  Puritan  towers  above  our 
later  specimens,  as  Mont  Blanc  among  mole  hills  ;  and 
if  verily  there  be  no  true  notion  of  social  progress  which 
does  not  rest  upon  the  idea  of  the  perfection  of  the  indi- 


174  A  HAPPY  PEOPLE. 

vidual  man  in  all  the  great  features  and  elements  of 
manhood,  where,  I  pray  you,  find  ^ve  the  data  for  these 
declamations  about  social  progress  ?  Is  it  in  the  style 
and  staple  of  our  literature  ?  Why,  we  have  Dibkens 
and  Eulwer  and  Tupper's  Proverbial  Philosophy  and 
Eugene  Sue's  novels  as  the  veritable  type  of  the  seven 
plagues  of  the  press  that  are  in  our  kneading  troughs 
and  upon  our  beds.  And  men  have  poems  by  Milton, 
and  Johnson  and  Shakespeare  and  Young  and  a  host  of 
stalwart  old  giants  of  Saxon  learning;  and  if  you  call 
the  change  a  progress,  it  is  the  progress  of  an  avalanche 
from  the  top  of  the  heaven-piercing  Alps  to  a  quagmire 
in  Italy. 

Or  is  there  progress  in  our  practical  morality  ?  AVhy, 
if  you  stood  on  Plymouth  Pockto-daj,  and  followed  the 
horizon  with  your  eye  toward  the  northeast,  where  the 
land  breaks  the  sea  view,  you  would  discover  a  small 
island ;  and  tliat  island  will  stand  in  the  geography  of 
the  millenium  ^vith  a  halo  of  wonderful  glory,  as  the 
spot  where  the  old  Pilgrims  spent  their  first  Sabbath. 
Yes,  fatigued,  worn  out,  well-nigh  dead  with  their  long 
sea- voyage,  in  full  view  of  the  land  of  their  adoption, 
yea,  within  a  half-hour's  sail  of  the  welcome  coast.  The 
Sabbath  dawned  upon  them  right  abreast  of  this  island, 
and  i^ecause  they  would  not  let  God's  wind  work  for 
them  unnecessarily  on  the  Lord's  day,  they  moored  their 
bark  there  ;  and  then,  on  that  desolate  island,  frost- 
bound  and  homeless,  under  a  snowy  sky  and  freezing 
sleet,  they  remembered  the  Sabbath  day  and  kept  it 
holy. 

And  do  you  think  we  have  outmarched  them  in  pro- 
gressive morality  ?     Let  the  rush  of  ten  thousand  wheels 


A  HAPPY  PEOPLE.  175 

over  God's  mundane  Sabbath  be  the  mark  and  the 
measure.  Or  is  it  in  the  uj^rightness  and  integrity  of 
the  men  who  bear  rule  in  the  councils  of  the  nation  that 
we  find  proofs  of  our  ])rogress  ?  Why,  we  had  Benja- 
min Franklin  and  John  AVitherspoon  and  John  Han- 
cock, and  we  had  George  Washington.  And  now  we 
have — we  have — will  you  all  know  who  we  have? — 
God.  And  if  it  be  a  progress  at  all,  it  seems  very  much 
like  the  Irishman's  "  Hist ''  from  the  top  of  a  great  wall 
into  the  bottom  of  a  great  gutter.  Kay,  my  hearers, 
without  further  witnessing  we  are  utterly  at  a  loss  to 
discover  in  the  midst  of  us  any  indication  of  that  advance 
toward  perfection  Avhereon  so  many  rely  for  the  perma- 
nency of  our  freedom.  Our  only  progress  seems  to  be 
in  the  accidents,  and  not  the  elements  of  our  noble  spe- 
cies. Nay,  further,  had  we  the  limits  we  might  show 
most  conclusively  that  apart  from  evangelical  influences 
there  hath  never  been  and  never  will  be  a  hair's  breadth 
of  human  progress. 

Were  the  Indians  truly  making  progress  in  this  con- 
tinent Avhen  the  Pilgrims  found  them  ?  Has  there  been 
progress  in  Africa  ?  Is  Carthage  or  Numidia  or  Egyp^. 
in  advance  of  their  position  in  long  antiquity  ?  Has 
there  for  a  long  thousand  years  been  a  single  advance  in 
China  or  India  or  Hindoostan  ?  Ko  !  no  !  my  breth- 
ren, the  grand  lesson  of  the  world's  whole  history  is,  that 
without  God's  quickening  Spirit  the  progress  of  all  so- 
cial and  civil  manhood  is  only  the  progress  of  a  lifeless 
body  from  corruption  to  corruption.  And  in  respect  of 
our  own  highly  favored  land  God  hath  only  just  to  re- 
move the  candle-stick  of  the  Gospel ;  Jesus  Christ  hath 
only  just  to  leave  the  political  bark  wherein,  with  His 


176  A  HAPPY  PEOPLE, 

Disciples,  He  is  crossing  the  sea,  and  verily,  with  the 
wind  dead  ahead,  we  should  be  driven,  stern  foremost, 
into  the  blackness  of  night  and  the  fragments  of  ship- 
wreck. 

Now,  these  are  some  of  the  things ;  and  I  have  given  you 
the  best  of  them  all  and  in  their  wildest  manifestation. 
These  are  some  of  the  things  whereon  men  rely  for  the 
progress  and  the  permanency  of  our  beloved  institutions  ; 
and  with  no  other  considerations  than  those  whereon  w^e 
have  just  dwelt,  we  speak  it  advisedly  and  fearless  of 
question — that  man  who  trusts  Americanism  to  such 
conservatiye  influences  hath  cast  anchor  for  his  bark  in  a, 
quicksand  and  pitched  tent  for  slumber  in  a  volcanoes 
grotto  where  the  crater  burns. 
'II.  And  by  all  this  am  I  led  to  the  second  thing  pro- 
posed— to  show  you  as  Avell  as  I  can  in  my  brief  limits, 
how  there  is  a  power  in  the  Gospel  of  Christ  to  preserve 
and  perfect  our  peculiar  institutions.  And  what  I  have 
to  say  on  this  topic  may  be  embraced  in  tAyo  most  simple 
considerations — the  Gospel  in  its  tendency,  the  Gospel 
in  its  results ;  what  the  Gospel  seems  adapted  to  do,  and 
what  the  Gospel  positively  has  done. 

1.  Consider,  then,  first,  the  inherent  fitness  of  the  Gos- 
pel to  our  popular  necessities,  /.  c,  consider  how  the 
Gospel  seems  adapted  to  overcome  those  evils  whereby 
our  nationality  is  put  in  jeopardy.  Now^,  Avhat  are  the 
evils  the  American  fears  when  he  thinks  of  our  insti- 
tutions? Why,  these  are  some  <^f  them  in  desultory 
order — 

He  fears  a  war  spirit — a  thirst  for  military  glory  or 
territorial  conquests  as  a  spirit  utterly  out  of  harmony 
w^ith    our   peculiar   institutions,    and   the  mighty  rock 


A  HAPPY  PEOPLE.  177 

whereon,  in  all  time,  republics  have  been  shipwrecked. 
And  appealing,  as  this  spirit  does,  to  all  the  principles 
of  unsanctified  carnality,  there  is  no  influence  that  can 
keep  it  down  but  the  Gospel.  And  to  keep  it  down  is 
just  the  Gospel's  tendency  and  the  Gospel's  triumph.  It 
sets  itself  against  all  wars  as  against  colossal  forms  of 
murder.  It  baptizes  every  American  child  in  the  cradle 
with  its  own  blessed  spirit  of  peace  on  earth  and  good 
will  to  men.  It  would  send  forth  every  American  youth 
with  an  ambition  higher  than  a  conqueror's — not  yearn- 
ing to  destroy  men's  bodies,  but  only  yearning  to  save 
men's  souls. 

Another  of  these  evils  an  American  patriot  fears  is 
slavery.  As  existing  in  our  midst,  it  makes  exhibition 
of  the  anomaly  of  a  despotism  working  within  a  republic ; 
and  they  won't  work  well  together.  Just  so  sure  as 
causes  produce  effects,  our  Union  must  get  rid  of  slavery, 
or  slavery  will  get  rid  of  the  Union.  And  there  is  noth- 
ing but  the  Gospel  or  God's  sore  judgments  that  can 
bring  about  its  abolition.  Political  parties  can  not  do  it ; 
for,  mark  me,  the  politician  who  blusters  most  loudly  for 
freedom  will  lavish  money  like  water  in  the  bribery  of 
an  election.  And  the  man  who  will  buy  a  vote  will  buy 
a  slave ;  and  there  is  not  a  political  demagogue  in  the 
midst  of  us  who  would  not  buy  Africans  to-morrow  if 
he  could  make  voters  of  them.  Kor  will  abolition  socie- 
ties get  rid  of  the  evil.  They  did  not,  indeed,  mean  it, 
for  there  are  many  honest  and  beloved  men  in  the  mid&t 
of  them  ;  but  the  practical  effects  of  their  operations  have 
been  to  unite  every  Southern  faction  with  a  mind  more 
adamantine.  But  the  Gospel  of  Christ  will  do  it.  The 
Gospel  of  Christ  hath  come  for  that  purpose;  to  preach 


178  A  HAPPY  PEOPLE. 

liberty  to  the  captive  is  the  glory  of  its  mission.  This 
blessed  Bible  an  advocate  for  slavery  !  Why,  as  well 
might  you  prove  there  is  no  light  by  the  blaze  of  yon 
sun,  or  make  certain  that  there  is  no  God  by  the  fires 
of  yon  firmament. 

Another  of  these  great  national  evils  is  Romanism. 
And  here  I  am  speaking  of  it  only  politically.  It  is, 
in  the  whole  working  of  its  polity,  essentially  a  des- 
potism, yea,  the  most  grinding  and  terrible  of  all 
manifestations  of  tyranny.  It  does  worse,  even,  than 
the  thralldom  of  feudal  vassalage.  It  puts  not  merely 
the  body  of  man  in  another's  power ;  it  puts  into 
another's  power  man's  beating  heart,  man's  living  con- 
science. Romanism,  as  a  polity,  is  the  very  perfection 
of  absolutism,  and  is  essentially  and  utterly  at  war 
with  popular  liberty.  And,  laying  claim,  as  its  Divine 
attribute,  to  absolute  infallibility,  it  is  the  same  despotic 
thing  to-day  it  was  a  thousand  years  agone,  and  is  mov- 
ing to-day  in  the  midst  of  us,  and  breathing  to-day  the 
pure  air  of  our  heritage,  the  same  intolerant  and  haughty 
spirit  which  hath  ever  despised  human  liberty,  and 
bound  men  in  chains  and  reared  over  every  vestige  of 
freedom  the  grim  grandeur  of  a  throne.  One  thing  is 
just  as  certain  as  your  being,  that  with  the  slaves  of  a 
Roman  priesthood  your  national  majority  will  be  dis- 
regarded and  your  capitol  will  become  another  Vatican, 
and  your  children  will  be  slaves. 

Now,  where  in  our  political  economy  find  we  from  all 
this  a  safe-guard  ?  Do  you  say  in  popular  education  and 
intellectual  progress  ?  Why,  sir,  the  very  loftiest  tri- 
umphs of  the  Papacy  to-day  have  been  won  amid  the 
classic  shades  of  Britain's  proudest  university.     Or  do 


A  HA  fPY  PEOPLE.  179 

you  find  this  safe-guard  in  native  American  politics  ? 
Why,  sir,  there  is  not  a  thing  out  of  heaven  they  pray 
for  so  earnestly  at  Rome  as  for  civil  proscription  and 
political  persecution  toward  American  Romanists?  Oh, 
no  !  no  !  there  is  but  one  social  instrumentality  in  God's 
world  that  can  avert  from  our  land  this  terrible  evil  ; 
and  that  instrumentality  is  the  pure  Gospel  of  Jesus, 
which  hath  proved  itself  in  many  a  great  strife  almiglity 
in  the  mastery;  which  has  met  Romanism  an  hundred 
times  in  its  own  mightiest  power  on  its  own  loftiest 
vantage  ground,  and  hath  come  forth  from  every  en- 
counter in  magnificent  triumph,  as  with  a  sling  and  a 
stone  from  the  Valley  of  Elah. 

Now,  "sve  can  not  pursue  further  this  enumeration  of 
evils  which  find  their  natural  antagonist  in  the  Gospel. 
We  have  dwelt  on  the  sorest  of  them,  and  leave  the 
consideration  of  others  to  your  private  meditation,  be- 
cause it  will  be  seen  by  you  all  at  a  glance,  that  licen- 
tiousness and  intemperance  and  ignorance  and  fanaticism 
and  the  palsy  of  a  sectional  selfishness  and  the  power 
of  a  throne-building  ambition,  and  all  those  multitudin- 
ous, though  minor  evils  which  threaten  our  nation,  are 
ever  in  their  operative  influence  inversely  as  the  power 
of  the  Gospel. 

And  we  go  on  to  glance  for  a  moment,  in  conclusion, 
at  the  Gospel  in  its  results,  and  ask  you  to  consider 
honestly  what  that  Gospel  has  done  for  national 
jvelfare. 

Look  back  to  the  history  of  the  Jews,  and  behold 
what  the  worship  of  the  true  God  did  for  that  glorious 
people ;  and  how  every  Sabbath  of  their  record,  from 
the  exodus  from  Egypt  to  the  hour  of  their  judicial 


180  A  HAPPY  PEOPLE, 

abandonment  amid  tlie  magnificent  cities  of  Canaan, 
flingH  a  halo  of  glorious  exposition  round  tlie  words  of 
the  text.  Go  back  to  the  hour  when  Christianity,  after 
three  centuries  of  meek  suifering  and  torture,  sat,  an 
enthroned  thing,  in  the  palace  of  the  Ctesars ;  and  in 
tlie  effect  so  magnificently  merciful  produced  upon 
Raman  laws  and  Roman  institutions,  belioid  how  every 
syllable  of  the  record  flings  a  glory  round  my  text. 
Open  to-day  the  book  of  tlie  chronicles  of  the  great 
Reformation,  and  behold  how,  after  centuries  of  awful 
desecration,  till  Christianity  had  become  impure  and 
hideous  as  Paganism,  a  pure  Gos^pel  had  only  to  utter 
her  oracles  among  men,  and  the  mind  of  half  Europe 
stirred  in  the  grave  and  woke  to  the  power  of  a  moral 
resurrection.  Look  abroad  on  the  world  to-day,  among 
the  Hottentots  of  South  Africa,  at  Sierra  Leone,  at  the 
Sandwich  Islands,  at  England  in  contrast  with  Greek 
Russia  and  Catholic  Ireland;  yea,  cast  your  eye  on  the 
world's  great  chart,  and  in  the  simple  fact  that  wherever 
the  Gospel  hath  been  it  colors  it  in  beautiful  light,  as 
with  a  pencil  of  sunbeams  j  and  wherever  the  Gospel 
hath  not  been,  the  color  is  stormy  and  black,  as  if  a 
fiend^s  pinions  were  shadowing  it.  In  this  simple  fact, 
I  say,  learn  the  glorious  truth  of  the  text,  its  noblest 
exposition. 

Nor  of  this  even  is  there  necessity.  You  need  not  go 
forth  abroad.  Our  Pilgrim  Fathers  came  to  this  far- 
away land  just  for  the  privileges  of  a  free  Gospel;  and 
our  social  and  national  prosperity  to-day,  our  happy 
security  in  the  midst  of  a  heaving  world  and  a  broken- 
hearted humanity,  are  the  evidences  of  what  the  Gospel 
does  for  the  happiness  of  men.     Oh !  what  hath  not 


A  HAPPY  PEOPLE.  181 

God's  blessed  Word  done  for  beloved  .Vraerica?     Our 
national  existence  is  a  result  of  the  CJospel. 

The  Genoese  navigator  and  the  German  Ileformer 
were  rocked  in  the  same  cradle  from  cliildren  of  evan- 
gelism. The  sifting  of  all  nations  for  God's  chosen 
seed  to  scatter  in  glorious  husbandry  on  this  foreign 
soil  was  the  Gospel  winnowing.  The  glorious  taste  of 
faith  jind  love  that  found  earth's  loftiest  cities  intolerable 
dungeons  without  a  Bible,  and  could  make  a  blessed 
l^ome  with  the  storm  and  the  sea-eagle  and  a  God  to- 
worship,  was  the  inspiration  of  tlie  Gospel.  The  patri- 
otism and  the  courage  and  self-sacrificing  love,  Avhich 
battled  unto  the  death  for  the  hearth-stone  and  tlie  altar, 
were  all  up-slioots  from  tlie  Gospel.  The  matchless 
w^isdom  of  a  Constitution  whose  great  central  truth  of 
human  ef|uality  was  an  antagonism  to  the  whole  spirit 
of  the  old  d;rnasties,  Avas  a  direct  inspiration  of  tlie 
Gospel.  And  so  all  the  subsequent  blessings  which,  as 
if  shed  from  an  angel's  wings,  have  been  scattered  along 
our  pathway  to  national  greatness.  Our  enlarging  com- 
merce, our  vast  increase  of  population,  the  glories  of  our 
educational  systems,  the  magnificence  of  our  practical 
charities,  the  reach  and  play  in  power  and  protection  of 
our  political  machinery,  the  enticing  beauty  which  our 
land  bears  to  far-away  nations  amid  the  sobbino;  as-onles 
of  their  down-trodden  children,  and  tlie  glory  and  the 
honor  which  a  whole  world  accords  to-day  to  the  way 
of  the  American  eagle  in  its  flight  through  the  skies. 
Oh  !  I  sa}^,  in  all  these  there  is  really  outwritten  my 
text's  exposition.  It  is  written,  as  it  were,  in  the  green  of 
our  fields  and  the  deep  blue  of  our  firmament.  And  S3d- 
labled,  as  it  were,  by  the  sighing  winds  and  sparkling 


182  A  HAPPY  PEOPLE. 

waters,  and  swells  up  in  every  heart  this  day  as  the  in- 
spiring thought  of  the  happiest  people  the  world  ever 
knew.  Rlo-htcousness!  Itio;hteousness  exalteth  a  nation. 
'^Bhssed  is  that  people  irhose  God  is  the  LordJ^ 

And  now  among  the  many  reflections  which  press 
upon  me,  we  have  only  limits  for  the  briefest ;  and  re- 
membering that  our  business  to-day  is  not  exhortation, 
but  thanksgiving,  we  will  end  as  we  began,  by  observing 
that  as  the  grand  source  whence  all  our  civil  and  social 
blessings  spring,  our  loudest  and  largest  acknowledge- 
ments are  due  to  Jehovah,  for  the  conservative  influences 
in  the  midst  of  us  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ  Jesus.  I 
think  we  are  justified  in  adding  one  item  to  this  utter- 
ance from  Xho.  capital.  I  surely  do  not  covet  the  honor  of 
being  private  secretary  to  His  Excellency  the  Governor, 
especially  if  that  secretary's  business  be  to  transcribe 
and  transmit  all  documents  growing  out  of  the  preroga- 
tive of  the  Governor  to  pardon  State's  Prison  convicts. 
But  had  it  been  our  task  to  transcribe  this  Annual 
Proclamation,  perhaps  we  should  have  ventured  to  sug- 
gest the  incongruity  of  recommending  a  day  of  thanks- 
giving for  plenteous  harvests  and  productive  labor,  for 
restored  peace  and  intellectual  progress,  without  even  a 
mention  of  those  glorious  religious  privileges  as  an  evan- 
gelical people,  whereby  all  tliese  temporal  advantages 
have  been  procured  and  preserved.  In  its  present  form 
it  does  seem  to  us  very  much  like  the  thanksgiving  of 
the  Society  Islanders,  wlio  at  each  gathering  of  a  rich 
harvest  used  to  offer  an  ox  in  sacrifice,  not  to  the  good 
god  who  had  sent  the  rice,  but  to  the  bad  god,  because 
he  had  not  sent  the  locusts. 

If,  as  we  have  been  striving  to  show,  we  are  to  find  in 


A  HAPPY  PEOPLE.  183 

the  Gospel  the  very  source  and  spring  of  all  our  national 
blessings,  social  and  civil,  then  surely  for  that  Gospel 
itself,  luore  than  for  all  other  benefactions,  are  our  thanks 
due  unto  Jehovah.  Thanksgiving,  indeed,  becomes  us, 
that  our  garners  are  filled  with  corn,  and  plenteousness 
and  peace  are  in  the  midst  of  our  habitation.  But  as 
that  better  gift,  but  for  which  this  joyous  day  the  Indian 
hunter  had  roamed  on  these  hills,  and  the  wild  beast's 
•  howl  rang  loud  over  these  waters.  But  for  the  Gospel 
— this  blessed  volume  of  good  news  from  God — oh  !  for 
this,  more  than  all,  should  Americans  be  thankful. 

And  with  this  thought  we  would  dismiss  you.  Go 
away  to  offer  the  sacrifices  of  thanksgiving  for  the  Gos- 
pel of  Jesus.  Let  us  thank  God  for  what  it  has  already 
done  for  us  ;  for  it  has  given  you  as  a  great  people,  being 
iind  nationality,  and  lifted  us  as  a  mighty  rock  amid  bil- 
lows, whereunto,  in  this  day  of  popular  convulsions, 
drowning  men  from  every  nation  under  heaven,  are 
striking  out  and  struggling  from  the  shipwreck  of  old 
systems.  And  it  has  showered  upon  us,  both  as  indi- 
viduals and  a  people,  as  if  from  the  wings  of  seraphim, 
blessings  forever  unmatched  in  all  the  long  histories  of 
the  generations  of  a  w^orld.  Yes,  and  more  than  all, 
thankful  in  the  magnificent  prospect  of  those  things, 
greater  and  more  glorious,  which  this  Gospel  shall  yet 
do  for  us  ;  for  sure  as  we  prove  not  altogether  recreant 
to  our  high  national  mission,  it  is  yet  in  the  sweep  of 
God's  immense  purpose  to  make  us  such  a  trophy  of  the 
benign  workings  of  Christ's  glorious  Gospel  as  no  old 
Hebrew  ever  dreamed  of  in  the  loftiest  raptures  of  proph- 
ecy. For  the  spectacle  shall  be  unto  all  kindreds  and 
tongues — of  a  nation  stretchino^  from  ocean    to  ocean. 


184  A  HAPPY  PEOPLE. 

across  this  whole  broad  continent ;  a  nation  of  freemen, 
self-governed,  governed  by  simple  law,  without  a  police 
or  a  soldiery  ;  a  nation  of  five  hundred  millions  of  peo- 
ple, covering  the  sea  with  their  fleets  and  the  land  with 
their  great  cities.  First  in  arts  and  learning  and  every 
product  of  genius ;  aye,  and  better  than  all,  and  higher 
and  holier,  a  religious  nation,  luxuriant  in  the  flower 
and  the  fruit  of  all  Christian  graces,  the  refuge  of  the 
oppressed,  the  protector  of  the  down-trodden,  the  home 
of  the  exile,  the  terror  of  despotisms,  the  almoner  of 
God's  grace  to  the  bleeding  hearts  of  humanity,  the- beacon 
to  a  world  of  the  disasters  of  ungodliness,  the  symbol  to 
mankind  of  the  endless  power  and  conservative  immor- 
tality of  a  righteous  law  and  a  Christian  faith,  the  living, 
breathing,  triumphing,  everlasting  exposition  of  God's 
great  doctrine,  that  only  righteousness  exalteth  a  nation  ; 
that  "  Blessed  is  that  people  tvhose  God  is  the  LordJ^ 


PURIFICATION. 


"  Purifying  their  hearts  by  faiths — AcTS  XV.  9. 

There  is,  we  are  assured,  a  great  injury  done  to  the 
cause  of  Christianity  by  the  representation  of  all  its 
operations  upon  the  soul  a^  mysteriously  miraculous. 
Among  the  principles  of  our  mental  constitution  there  is 
an  element  of  incredulity  which  predisposes  us  to  look 
for  deception  where  there  is  manifest  concealment,  and 
perceiving,  as  "sve  do,  in  every  other  department  of 
Divine  operation  a  beautiful  transparency,  so  that  though 
from  the  budding  of  a  flower  to  the  revolutions  of  a 
firmament,  they  are  in  a  sense  all  miraculous,  yet  every- 
where is  the  miracle  wrought  through  an  instrumental- 
ity of  means  the  most  philosophic  and  adapted  ;  perceiv- 
ing this,  I  say,  we  expect  the  sjmie  transparency  of 
operation  in  the  economy  of  salvation,  and  are  predis- 
posed to  reject  as  false  a  religious  system  wherein  God 
is  represented  as  working  either  without  means  at  all  or 
through  means  absolutely  arbitrary  (tr  of  no  apjxirent 
adaptation  to  the  production  of  results.  And  thus  it 
often  happens  that  when  questioned  by  a  man  of  high 
intellect  of  our  theories  of  regeneration  and  sanctifica- 
tion,  if  we  tell  him  that  we  have  no  explanation  to  give 
of  the  philosophy  of  the  marvel ;  that  God  worketh 
here  arbitrarily  and  with  no  manifest  adaptation  of 
means  to  ends  ;  that  reason  hath  nothing  to  do  amid  the 
mysteries  of  God's  gracious  economy  ;  yea,  that  a  fool  is 
better  fitted  to  their  comprehension  than  a  wise  man,  for 


180  PURIFICATION. 

God  hath  hidden  these  things  from  the  wise  and  pru- 
dent, find  revealed  them  nnto  babes ;  replying  thus,  I 
say,  unto  his  inquiry,  we  ought  to  expect  Him  to  turn 
away  with  contempt  from  our  Christianity,  inasmuch  as 
by  doing  violence  to  all  our  experience  of  Divine  opera- 
tions, it  is  made  to  carry  on  its  very  front  a  denial  of 
God.  Now,  the  matter  of  fact  is,  practical  Christianity, 
or  the  work  of  Divine  grace  upon  the  human  spirit, 
though  it  be  in  every  sense  a  miracle,  yet  is  in  every 
sense,  as  well,  a  miracle  wrought  by  a  philosophic  instru- 
mentality. The  gospel  is  not  only  God's  power,  but  the 
very  wisdom  of  God  unto  salvation ;  and  wisdom  being 
nothing  more  than  a  practical  application  of  knowledge, 
or  the  production  of  the  best  ends  by  the  simplest  means, 
it  is  a  positive  contradiction  of  terms  to  speak  of  the 
Gospel  as  producing  salvation  by  processes  in  any  sense 
arbitrary. 

The  two  great  processes  in  the  Christian  scheme  are 
justification  by  the  imputed  righteousness  of  Christ,  and 
sanctification,  rudimental  and  progressive,  through  the 
influences  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  And  of  both  these 
processes  alike  is  it  declared  in  the  Bible,  that  they  are 
wrought  in  respect  of  the  redeemed  spirit  through  the 
instrumentality  of  faith.  And  we  declare,  that  so  far 
from  being  arbitrary  and  unnatural,  the  working  out  of 
this  effect  through  this  instrumentality  is  most  beautiful 
in  its  wisdom  and  most  apparent  in  its  philosophy. 

In  respect  of  the  first  of  these  processes,  justifica- 
tion by  faith,  our  text  has  nothing  to  do ;  and,  indeed, 
so  little  is  there  of  mystery  about  it,  that  a  simple 
annunciation  of  the  doctrine  carries  with  it  its  most 
philosophic  explanation.     Justification  is  a  forensic,  a 


PURIFICATION.  187 

law  term,  denoting  not  a  change  in  a  person's  disposition, 
but  a  change  of  his  state  in  relation  to  law.  And  the 
instrumentality  of  faith  in  this  process  consists  only  in 
the  reception  and  application  of  Christ  and  His  right- 
eousness. Its  whole  philosophy  is  as  apparent  as  the 
simplest  principle  of  suretyship  in  human  jurispru- 
dence. Christ  suffering  the  law  penalty  in  the  stead  of 
the  sinner,  and  the  sinner  appropriating  this  substitution 
by  an  act  of  faith.  It  is  only  with  the  second  of  these 
processes  that  our  text  has  to  do ;  and  it  is  in  respect  of 
this  especially  that  there  seems  so  much  of  mysteiy  in 
the  human  mind. 

The  thought  for  our  consideration,  therefore,  to-day, 
is.  Faith  an  instilment  of  sandification.  And  our 
present  object  will  be,  therefore,  to  set  forth  as  fully  as 
we  may  faith's  sanctifying  operation.  "  Purifying  their 
hearts  by  faiths 

Now,  we  are  all  aware  how  at  a  superficial  glance  the 
working  of  such  an  instrumentality  would  seem  to  be 
altogether  different.  The  fact  that  we  are  not  justified 
by  the  deeds  of  the  law,  but  simply  by  the  appropria- 
tion of  another's  righteousness,  would  seem  to  release  us 
from  all  necessity  for  personal  obedience.  And  the  anti- 
nomian  deduction  would  be  a  manifest  seqidtur.  ^^  Let 
us  continue  in  sin,  that  grace  may  abomid."  Tell  me 
that  I  am  to  stand  at  the  Judgment  seat  condemned  or 
acquitted,  not  on  the  ground  of  my  own  personal  merits 
or  personal  character,  but  simply  and  solely  on  the 
ground  of  Immanuei's  suretyship,  and  you  would  seem 
to  release  me  at  once  from  all  motive  to  work  out  my 
own  salvation  with  trembling  and  fear.  And  yet  upon 
a  closer  inspection  all  this  will  bo  made  manifest  a  false 


188  PURIFICATION. 

seeming,  and  the  truth,  we  think,  will  become  beauti- 
fully apparent,  how  trust  in  Jesus  leads  to  actual  right- 
eousness ;  how  the  Holy  Spirit  works  with  a  true  phil- 
osophy when  in  the  process  of  sanctiiication.  He 
^'  jnirifies  the  heart  by  faith  J' 

Now,  faith  considered  as  an  intellectual  process  is 
belief  of  a  testimony,  and  thougli  the  process  itself  may 
be  greatly  varied  by  the  character  of  its  objects,  yet,  as 
felt  by  the  Christian,  it  is  ever  essentially  the  same,  viz., 
such  a  state  of  the  mind  that  religious  truths  exert  upon 
it  the  same  power  as  if  they  were  perceived  by  the 
senses. 

Keeping  this  definition  in  mind,  it  is  most  easy  to  go 
on  to  the  understanding  of  the  efficacy  of  faith  as  a 
purifying  principle.  We  will  begin  at  the  very  lowest 
point  in  faith's  influences  and  proceed  in  our  consid- 
eration in  the  order  of  climax.  Take  faith  first,  as 
it  has  to  do  with  the  great  doctrines  of  speculative 
religion.  Imagine  a  community  of  human  beings  living 
in  absolute  ignorance  of  that  great  postulate  of  Chris- 
tianity, a  future  state  of  being,  and  living,  as  they  must 
live,  only  for  the  present  moment,  is  it  conceivable  that 
they  should  not  plunge  at  once  into  all  the  depths  and 
degradation  of  licentiousness  ?  Would  these  not  be 
seen,  in  fact,  to  be  the  principles  of  the  very  truest  ^ 
philosophy  in  their  epicurean  tenet.  '^  Let  us  eat  and 
drink,  for  to-morrow  Ave  die  ?  "  And  earthly  pleasure, 
constituting,  in  fact,  the  great  law  of  their  being,  how 
could  they  live  otherwise  than  only  for  the  present,  since 
they  had  heard  of  no  future  of  their  being  for  which 
to  live  ?  But  upon  minds  thus  dwarfed  under  ignorance 
of  futurity,  pour  suddenly  the  glorious  revelation  of  the 


PURIFICATION.  189 

life  and  the  immortality.  Let  them  iiiKlerstand  how 
tlie  relation  of  the  present  unto  the  life  to  come  is  at  best 
the  relation  of  infancy  to  manhood  ;  how  earth  is  not 
to  be  looked  upon  as  man's  only  or  man's  ultimate  abid- 
ing-place ;  how  this  mortal  life  is  in  no  sense  a  state  of 
fruition,  Imt  in  every  sense  a  state  of  preparation; 
how  that  eye  is  yet  to  look  upon  visions  of  more  glorious 
light,  and  that  ear  to  listen  to  sounds  more  enrapturing- 
ly  harmonious ;  how  the  period  hastens  when  the  soul 
shall  burst  proudly  away  from  thisenthrallment  of  sensu- 
alism, and  mount  in  ascending  flight  upward  in  great 
glory  to  the  beatitudes  of  the  spiritual.  Cause  this  to 
be  done,  I  say,  and  you  will  perceive  how  a  purifying 
ministry  hath  begun  already  its  influence  upon  the  soul ; 
how  earth's  degrading  pleasures  lose  their  power  under 
anticipations  of  pleasures  to  be  eternal ;  how  with  no 
higher  reference  than  to  a  speculative  belief  the  philoso- 
j^hy  of  the  text  is  most  true,  and  the  heart  is  purified 
by  faith. 

But  if  to  all  this  there  should  rise  up  the  apparent 
objection  that  the  belief  of  immortality  has  hardly  been 
observed  to  operate  thus  in  its  influence  upon  the  wor- 
shipers of  false  gods,  then  we  have  for  this  a  two- 
fold answer. 

First y  That  the  actual  influence  of  the  belief  in  this 
case  can  not  be  "perceived,  because  they  were  never 
without  this  belief.  The  tribe  or  family  hath  never 
been  lighted  on  in  the  adventure  of  man's  mightiest 
travel  whose  established  faith  was  not  of  some  sort  of  a 
coming  immortality.  And  you  must  destroy  that  faith, 
and  take  suddenly  away  from  the  mind  all  its  motive 
power  upon   the  spirit,  ere  you  can  understand   how 


190  P  URIFJCA  TION. 

more  mightily  deluded  men  were  without  it.     And  even 
such  a  faith  is  an  instrument  of  purifying.     But, 

Secondly.  I  remark  that  this  belief  of  the  heathen 
world  in  a  future  state  of  being  is  not  really  to  be  called 
faith,  but  is  rather  to  be  called  fancy.  Faith  is  belief 
of  a  truth;  and  though  the  simple  fact  of  the  soul's 
immortality,  even  in  their  religion,  was  a  great  truth, 
yet  all  the  conditions  and  circumstances  of  that  immor- 
tality were  so  enormously  false  that  the  whole  belief 
might  better  be  called  a  fancy.  Even  under  the  purest 
forms  of  false  worship,  the  notion  of  God  and  of  the 
economy  of  spirits  and  of  the  doings  and  destiny  of 
the  immortal  soul,  were  so  unreal  and  so  monstrous; 
the  very  deity  they  w^orshiped  was  so  very  a  demon  ;  the 
heaven  to  which  they  aspired  Avas  so  very  a  pandemon- 
ium of  licentiousness  ;  this  mortal  was  to  put  on  an  im- 
mortality so  dissociated  from  all  that  was  pure,  so 
steeped  in  all  that  was  polluted,  that  the  mightiest 
yearning  after  immortality  brought  to  the  soul  scarce  a 
purifying  ministry,  since  the  purest  preparation  for  their 
paradise  was  to  wax  mighty  in  the  commission  of  crime 
and  gigantic  of  stature  in  licentiousness.  It  is  not, 
therefore,  of  such  false  notions  of  immortality  we  are 
speaking.  It  is  of  a  pure  faith  in  the  economy  of 
spirits  as  it  is.  And  we  say  again,  therefore,  that  you 
have  only  to  beget  this  as  a  speculatfve  belief  in  a  poor, 
debased  soul,  theretofore  ignorant  of  it,  and  as  the 
thought  of  a  heaven  of  exceeding  blessedness  and  a  God 
glorious  in  the  garb  of  His  everlasting  purity,  and  a 
social  system  of  sinless  and  rejoicing  immortals;  as 
these  thoughts  broke  like  the  light  of  a  new  sun  upon 
the  dark  night  of  his   sensualism,  you  would  see  him 


PURIFICATION.  191 

lifting  himself  to  aspiration  for  holier  companionships, 
and  the  practical  workings  of  the  revelation  would  be 
purifying  the  heart  by  faith. 

But  faith  does  more  than  fasten  the  eye  of  the  soul  on 
the  grand  truths  of  speculative  Christianity.  It  brings 
them  to  the  contemplative  spirit  in  the  form  and  with 
the  power  of  most  miglity  motives.  It  not  only  reveals 
a  heaven  of  purity,  but  it  opens  up  before  man  the  way 
whereby  he  may  attain  thereunto.  And  in  this  con- 
sists this  second  element  we  would  have  you  consider, 
of  the  purifying  power  of  faith.  Christian  faith  not 
only  reveals  a  heaven  of  glory,  but  a  heaven  accessible 
to  human  strivings.  And  herein,  I  say,  consists  another 
element  of  its  power  to  purify.  Did  it  merely  tell  me 
that  there  is  a  heaven ;  did  it  merely  reveal  the  majesty 
of  its  everlasting  allotments ;  did  it  merely  give  me  even 
the  power  of  vision  to  gaze  upon  the  very  conditions  of 
blissfulness ;  yea,  did  it  merely  realize  the  rapturing 
thought  of  the  Revelator,  and  strengthen  the  spirit's 
eye  to  behold  the  descent  of  the  Xew  Jerusalem  out  of 
heaven,  and  make  to  pass  before  the  sight  the  wonders  of 
its  everlasting  glory,  and  make  to  fall  upon  the  ear  the 
outbursts  of  its  everlasting  music,  why  then,  even  then, 
it  might  put  forth  better  strength  of  motive  to  urge  the 
soul  along  the  highway  of  holiness. 

But  it  does  more,  vastly  more.  It  tells  me  of  a  way 
of  access  unto  heaven's  beatitudes.  It  tells  me  of  a  pro- 
pitiation for  sin  and  a  mediatorshij)  unto  the  sinner,  and 
how  it  is  for  the  polluted  soul  only  to  give  itself  unto 
the  obedience  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus ;  only  to  flee  to 
the  sprinkled  blood  of  the  great  Atonement  for  a  free 
pardon  ;  only  to  take  up  the  Cross  mightily  in  a  path 


192  PURIFICATION. 

of  self-denial ;  only  to  give  itself  strenuously  to  Gospel 
faith  and  Gospel  obedience ;  and  that  heaven  shall  wear 
no  longer  the  aspects  of  a  stranger  land,  but  the  highway 
of  holiness  opened,  reaching  even  to  its  gates  of  pearl,  and 
its  portals  flung  ojk'u  freely  to  a  mortal's  footstep,  and  its 
battlements  thronged  with  glorious  forms  bending  down 
to  encourage  me.  Oh !  I  say,  heaven  weareth  no  longer 
the  aspect  of  a  stranger  land  of  inaccessible  beauty,  but 
it  breaks  out  upon  the  gazer's  eye  in  the  lovelier  aspects 
of  a  prize  to  be  struggled  for  and  a  home  to  be  found. 
And  in  all  this,  my  hearers,  do  you  not  perceive  how  a 
heaven  to  be  attained  by  the  sanctified  becomes  a  grand 
motive  unto  purity  ?  Heaven  is  a  dwelling-place,  and 
its  palaces  are  to  be  reached  only  by  vigorous  journey- 
ings  along  the  highway  of  holiness.  Heaven  is  a  char- 
acter, and  its  blissfulness  Avithin  the  soul  is  to  be  at- 
tained only  by  an  upgrowing  in  sanctification  ;  so  that, 
look  upon  Heaven  in  what  aspect  you  will,  it  breaks  out, 
ever  unto  the  vision  of  faith,  as  the  shining  of  a 
mighty  reward  unto  a  lifting  fearlessly  the  Cross  and  a 
following  faithfully  the  Master ;  so  that  every  bright 
thing  heaven  eontaineth  hath  the  influence  of  a  motive 
unto  sin-subduing.  And  by  all  the  splendors  of  its 
loving  scenes,  and  all  the  triumphs  of  its  gifted  spirits, 
and  all  the  gladness  of  its  blissful  immortality,  is  the 
truth  of  the  text  made  most  manifest,  that  God  purifieth 
the  heart  by  faith. 

And  yet  to  all  this  it  may  be  objected,  that  the  Chris- 
tian's heaven  is  attained  only  as  a  free  favor  of  grace, 
and  not  in  any  sense  as  the  reward  of  creature  obedi- 
ence ;  so  that  though  a  blissful  eternity  set  forth  as  a  re- 
ward might  operate  as  a  motive  to  cultivated  purity,  yet 


PURIFICATION.  193 

if  bestowed  only  as  a  purchase  of  another,  and  to  be 
given  without  money  and  without  price  to  him  whose 
interest  is  in  a  Redeemer,  tlien  there  seems  to  be  in  it  no 
motive  at  all  to  a  crucifixion  of  the  flesh  with  its  affections 
and  lusts.  • 

And  this  leads  me  to  consider  a  third  element  of  sancti- 
fying power  in  faith.  Not  only  does  it  contemplate  heaven 
as  accessible  to  creature  strivings,  but  it  regards  it  as  ren- 
dered thus  accessible  through  the  sufferings  of  a  Media- 
tor. The  truths  which  cluster' around  Calvary  are  the 
objects  of  a  Christian  faith.  It  keeps  steadily  upon  the 
soul  in  all  its  resistless  power  of  sin-subduing  the  ma- 
jestic truth  of  an  incarnate  God.  Evidence,  as  it  is,  of 
the  things  unseen,  it  keeps  the  eye  fixed  even  on  the  un- 
measured agonies  of  a  dying  Christ. 

The  Cross  !  The  Cross  is  the  object  of  faith  ;  and 
though  it  be  a  cross  whereon  a  Saviour  died,  that,  irre- 
spective of  my  own  deeds,  I  might  be  justified  through 
His  rio;hteousness ;  thouo-h  the  salvation  it  teaches  be  a 
salvation  freely  extended,  without  money  or  price,  so 
that  it  is  not  through  my  prayers  and  it  is  not  through 
my  purity,  but  it  is  solely  through  the  merits  and  mercy 
of  another,  that  my  sins  are  blotted  out  and  my  pardon 
secured ;  still,  I  say,  the  man  who  speaketh  of  the  Cross 
as  an  encouragement  to  licentiousness ;  the  man  who  does 
not  regard  the  Cross ;  yea,  who  does  not  regard  a  simple 
faith  in  the  Cross  as  a  mighty  instrumentality  for  sanc- 
tification,  does  foul  injustice  to  all  the  principles  of  a  hu- 
man soul.  It  is  not  in  man's  heart,  fallen,  depraved  as 
he  may  be;  it  is  not  amid  the  shattered  portion  of  a  nuture 
noble  in  its  ruins — such  unmitigated  selfishness  that 
can  ascend  Calvary  as  a  standpoint  whence  to  plunge 


19-4  PURIFICATION. 

more  deeply  into  iniquity.  The  story  of  Christ  cruci- 
fied is  the  mightiest  story  God  Himself  can  tell  you  in 
every  element  of  sin-subduing. 

The  Cross  !  Go  plant  it  in  the  veriest  hell  of  human  out- 
casts, and  you  check  their  reveling.  The  Cross !  Go  plant 
it  in  the  darkness  of  the  dwellings  of  the  lost,  and  tears 
glitter  in  the  eye  and  curses  die  upon  the  tongue.  And  oh 
then !  when  the  Cross  rises  up  as  the  vision  of  faith  in 
souls  wherein  Christ  hath  already  been  found  the  hope  of 
glory,  and  as  if  it  actually  stood  before  us  in  the  majesty  of 
Immanuel's  suffering,  you  gaze  upon  the  agonies  of  the 
bleeding  forehead  and  the  breaking  heart,  then,  I  say,, 
you  can  not  but  perceive  how  God  worketh  with  the  very 
finest  philosophy  when  through  faith  as  an  instrument 
He  sanctifieth  the  heart. 

Is  worldly mindedness  the  sin  of  our  nature  you  would 
rebuke  and  destroy  ?  Why,  then,  go  to  those  scenes  of 
the  exchange  or  the  market-place  where  Christian  men 
are  manifesting  their  idolatries,  and  just  plant  the  Cross 
there  ;  and  think  ye  the  glitter  of  gold  and  the  glories 
of  merchandise  will  not  loose  their  charm  ?  Is  a  love  of 
pleasure  the  sin  ye  would  have  purified?  Why,  then,  go 
to  those  fashionable  assemblies,  miscalled  Christian, 
where  God's  professing  disciples  sometimes  meet  with 
the  dance  and  the  song.  Go,  I  say,  and  when  voluptu- 
ous music  is  in  its  fullest  strain,  and  the  pulses  are  wild 
in  the  delirium  of  gladness,  go  plant  ye  the  red  Cross 
of  Jesus  in  the  midst  of  the  revel ;  and  they  will  flee, 
every  one  of  them,  as  at  a  vision  of  God's  angels,  and 
the  spell  of  the  enchantress  will  be  beguiled  of  its 
power.  Is  it  a  want  of  entire  consecration  to  Christ 
that  is  needed  in  the  spirit?  Why,  then,  go  to  the  dis- 


PURIFICATION.  195 

ciple  that  makes  reserve  of  anytliing  in  his  Master's 
service ;  go  to  the  man  who  hoards  gold  while  the 
heathen  are  dying ;  go  to  the  mother  who  can  not  give 
np  her  child  in  a  missionary  service ;  go  to  them  as  they 
resist  yonr  pleadings  in  the  strength  of  foul  covetous- 
ness  or  idolatrous  love,  and  plant  the  Cross  there.  Let 
the  ear  listen  to  \\\^  fall  of  the  blood  drops.  Let  the 
eye  gaze  on  the  terrible  agonies  convulsing  the  frame- 
work. Let  the  soul  feel  all  the  power  of  that  miracle 
of  mercy  wrought  for  itself,  and  I  tell  you  !  I  tell  you 
the  smitten  disciple  will  rise  up  in  the  strength  of  a 
deeper  consecration,  and  the  agonizing  words  of  self- 
renunciation  will  be,  ''  Yes,  take  it ;  take  it.  My  time, 
my  riches,  my  child,  my  life,  take  all,  now^  and  forever, 
Thou  Son  of  God  P' 

And  so  I  do  not  care  what  the  sin  may  be  whose  in- 
fluence in  the  soul  ye  would  have  weakened  and  de- 
stroyed, God  can  devise  no  mightier  instrument  of  its 
subjugation  than  the  Cross  of  the  Crucified.  And  faith 
being  the  evidence  of  things  unseen,  and  faith  in  the 
Mediatorship  being,  indeed,  a  spiritual  vision  of  the 
scenes  of  the  Sin  Atoning,  then  the  simple  belief  hath 
all  the  sanctifying  power  of  the  subduing  vision.  And 
the  text's  philosophy  is  apparent — how  faith  purifies  the 
soul. 

And  then  there  is  one  other  element  in  faith's  power 
of  purifying.  It  is  not  only  the  evidence  of  things  un- 
seen, but  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for.  It  is  that 
principle  of  Divine  implantation  whereby  things  unseen 
and  eternal  produce  upon  the  mind  the  very  influence  of 
things  actually  seen  and  present.  In  respect  of  the  reali- 
ties of  the  world  to  come,  its  actual  instrumentality  is  the 


196  rURIFICA  TION. 

same  as  would  be  a  vision  of  God  ajid  heav^en  and  the 
augels  and  the  redeemed  in  glory  and  the  liarps  of 
praise  and  the  crowns  of  victory;  and  if  such  be  its 
mysterious  power,  then  liow  apparently  must  faith  be  a 
purifier.  You  are  none  of  you  ignorant  of  tlie  influence 
of  scenery  and  circumstances  upon  the  human  character. 
By  the  very  laws  of  our  being  we  become  like  our  ob- 
jects of  contemplation.  Even  the  aspects  of  external 
nature  work  mightiiy  upon  the  observing  spirit.  The  Scot- 
tish intellect  hath  waxed  giant  in  strength  amid  the  moun- 
tains of  Scotland,  and  the  Italian  mind  sunk  into  nerve- 
less sentimentality  amid  the  soft  landscapes  of  Italy. 
The  miners,  whose  home  from  year  to  year  is  in  the 
caverns  of  the  earth,  are  but  little  in  intellect  above  the 
beasts  that  perish,  while  the  old  Indians  of  the  East, 
dwelling  on  immense  plains  of  an  unbroken  circle  of 
horizon,  and  canopied  by  a  ])erfect  hemisphere  of  spark- 
ling firmament,  gazed  up  to  the  everlasting  stars  till  the 
mind  grew  absolutely  gigantic  in  the  reach  of  a  stu- 
pendous astronomy.  And  so  it  is  ever.  The  great  law 
of  our  being  is  assimilation.  We  become  like  what  we 
behold  ;  we  become  like  what  w^e  contemplate. 

Now  let  heaven,  with  its  beatific  realities,  become  the 
object  of  our  constant  thought,  and  who  doubts  the 
process  of  purifying?  Suppose,  instead  of  being  faith, 
it  were  absolutely  vision.  Translate  a  man  as  Paul  was, 
actually  to  Paradise.  Let  him  hear  the  unspeakable 
words,  and  gaze  on  the  inconceivable  glories,  and  would 
not  the  influence  be  sanctifying?  Take  that  covetuous 
Christian,  who  Avill  hoard  his  gold  while  the  world  is 
perishing.  Bear  him  up  bodily  to  stand  with  Grabriel 
in  the  Citv  of  Holiness.     Let  him  take  measure  and 


PURIFICATION.  197 

dimensions  of  the  heirship  of  immortality.  And  will 
he  come  back,  think  ye,  as  strongly  enamored  of  the 
gems  of  earth  ?  Take  that  pleasure-loving  Christian, 
who  delights  in  scones  of  festivity  and  merriment. 
Rapture  him  suddenly  away  to  the  everlasting  mansions. 
Give  him  eyes  to  see  what  John  saw,  and  ears  to  hear 
what  John  heard.  Let  him  go  forth  awhile  by  those 
living  streams  and  recline  with  the  blest  in  tliose  gardens 
of  gladness.  And  think  you  he  will  return  again  from 
that  ravishing  hour  to  delight  himself  in  human  habita- 
tions with  dance  and  wine  ?  Take  the  honor-seeking 
Christian,  who  longeth  for  human  praise,  and  shrinks 
from  the  offence  of  the  Cross,  and  will  have  the  waving 
of  palms  and  the  outbursts  of  hosannas  on  his  journey- 
ings  t<jward  ZIon.  Send  down  the  chariot  of  fire,  and 
bear  him  up,  body  and  spirit  and  soul,  to  the  dwellings 
of  glory;  an<l  there,  standing  in  the  midst  of  the  pomps 
of  immortality,  causro  to  pass  before  his  eye  the  majestic 
trains  whose  march  was  in  the  visions  of  the  exile  of 
Patmos.  Let  him  understand  what  are  the  high  things 
in  the  allotments  of  righteousness  ;  how  much  brighter 
than  earth's  are  the  gems  of  the  crown ;  wider  than  a 
king's  is  the  sway  of  the  sceptre  ;  and  tlien  compel  him 
back  from  tliat  high  exodus  to  the  Egypt  of  life,  and 
tell  me,  oli !  tell  me  if  he  will  thirst  anv  lono^er  for  the 
laurels  of  earth  or  the  hosannas  of  mortals. 

And  yet  in  all  this  you  perceive  how  there  is  only  an 
illustration  of  faith's  sanctifying  influence.  Being,  as 
it  positively  is,  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  its 
influence  is  to  bring  down  heaven  itself  with  glorious 
joys  as  the  operative  antagonist  of  sensual  gladness.  It 
is  as  if  one   ctf   the  sunny    islands  wherein   the  blest 


198  PURIFICATION. 

repose  were  suspended  in  open  vision  in  the  midst  of 
yon  firmament,  and  from  this  low  stand-point  of  earth 
you  could  gaze  up  to  the  beatitudes  of  its  radiant  scenes, 
and  listen  to  the  full  sw^ell  of  its  surpassing  harmonies. 
And  therefore  it  is,  that  the  text's  philosophy  is  com- 
pletely apparent.  Faith's  power  is  tlie  power  of  a 
heaven  revealed  over  the  emotions  of  the  faithful. 
And  so  it  is  that  by  all  that  maketh  heaven  attractive 
unto  the  spirit ;  by  all  the  splendors  of  its  living  scenes 
and  all  the  high  intercourse  of  its  living  society  and  all 
the  great  triumphs  of  its  gifted  in  spirit  and  all  deep 
gladness  of  its  blissful  immortality;  by  all  these,  and 
things  mightier  immensely  than  these,  is  the  truth  made 
manifest,  that  the  Gospel  of  Christ  is  a  pure  machinery 
of  sanctification  ;  that  God  worketh  with  all  wisdom, 
purifying  the  heart  by  faith. 

Now,  thoup:h  most  abundant  are  the  reflections  which 
press  upon  us  in  conclusion,  for  one  only  have  we  the 
limits  ;  and  it  is  this  :  The  subject  furnishes  a  fine  test 
for  self-examination.  Faith,  in  its  very  nature,  has 
been  seen,  to  be  a  purifier.  Therefore,  if  I  am  a 
Christian  I  am  progressing  in  sanctification.  I  care 
not  what  other  evidences  you  may  have  if  this  only  be 
wanting.  A  Christian  is  a  pilgrim  journeying  toward 
Zion,  but  heaven  is  a  character  as  well  as  a  locality, 
and  a  man  is  not  journeying  at  all  unless  he  be  growing 
sanctified.  Long  prayers  and  load  praises  and  emotions 
of  ecstatic  joy  and  high  yearnings  after  the  boundless 
and  everlasting — these  may  be  the  accessories  of  holi- 
nei^s,  but  they  surely  are  not  the  elements  of  holiness. 
In  the  language  of  an  eloquent  man,  "  If  I  have  been 
elected  to  obtain  salvation  in  the  next  life,  I  have  been 


PURIFICA  TION.  199 

elected  also  to  the  practice  of  holiness  in  this  life. 
Would  I  ascertain  my  election  to  the  blessedness  of 
eternity,  it  must  be  by  practically  demonstratiug  my 
election  to  newness  of  life.  It  is  not  by  the  rapture  of 
feeling  and  by  the  luxuriance  of  thought  and  by  the 
warmth  of  those  desires  which  descriptions  of  heaven 
may  stir  up  Avithin  me,  that  I  can  prove  myself  pre- 
destined to  a  glorious  inheritance.  The  way  to  heaven 
is  disclosed ;  am  I  walking  in  that  way  ?  It  would  be 
poor  proof  that  I  were  on  my  voyage  to  India,  that 
with  glowing  eloquence  and  thrilling  poetry  I  could 
discourse  on  the  palm  groves  and  spice  islands  of  the 
the  East.  Nay,  am  I  on  the  waters  ?  Is  the  sail  hoisted 
to  the  wind ;  and  the  land  of  my  birth,  does  it  look 
Ijlue  and  faint  in  tlie  distance  ?'' 

This,  this  is  the  criterion  of  Godliness.  Faith  is 
God's  instrument  of  sanctification,  and  the  child  of  God 
must  be  under  the  sanctifying  processes.  Trust  to  any 
other  evidence  in  God's  ^reat  universe  of  resting-places 
and  refuges ;  to  anything  in  the  tenor  of  a  past  ex- 
perience ;  to  anything  in  the  blissfulness  of  present  and 
operatic  emotions ;  trust  to  anything  but  a  faith  which 
is  working  out  your  sanctification,  and  verily  ye  are  like 
the  sailor  who  slept  upon  the  sea,  who  was  roused  from 
sweet  dreams  of  safe  anchorage  to  find  himself  ship- 
wrecked and  lost !  lost ! 


UNHEEDED  WARNING. 


"  He  that  being  often  reproved hardeneth  his  neck,  shall  suddenly  be 
destroyed,  and  that  without  remedy.^' — Proverbs  xxix.  i. 

The  great  difficulty  in  preaching  the  Gospel  is  not  so 
much  to  produce  apprehension  as  self-application  of  the 
truth.  I  do  not  address  an  impenitent  person  to-day 
Avho  does  not  know  as  well  as  I  know,  who  does  not 
know  as  well  as  he  ever  will  know,  the  doctrines  of  the 
Bible  fundamental  to  salvation.  And  yet  I  do  address 
some  to-day  wdio  in  all  human  probability  will  at  last 
be  lost,  just  because  they  are  not  willing  to  apply  unto 
themselves  the  great  truths  of  the  Bible.  Charity  is  a 
glorious  grace.  It  hopeth  all  things  and  endureth  all 
things,  and  covers  a  multitude  of  sins,  and  maketh  man 
an  angel  and  this  dark  world  heaven.  And  yet  there  is 
a  species  of  charity  which  is  a  great  curse ;  a  species  of 
charity,  in  the  exercise  of  which  many  a  preciou*  soul 
will  be  lost.  I  mean  the  charity  which  giveth  all  the 
truths  of  a  discourse  to  our  neighbors,  like  the  disciples 
in  the  wilderness,  giving  all  the  bread  of  heaven  unto 
the  surrounding  multitude. 

Now,  beloved  hearer,  you  have  been  guilty  of  this 
charity  already  too  long,  and  I  come  to  you  this  day 
praying  you  in  Christ's  stead,  that  you  be  selfish  enougli 
to  reserve  unto  yourself  tliat  which  is  all  your  own.  I 
come  to  whisper  in  your  ear  an  awful  truth  of  God. 
There  is  in  this  house  an  individual  standing  on  the 
very  border  of  a  sudden  and   a  remediless  destruction^ 


UNHEEDED   WARNING.  201 

like  a  blind  man  on  the  brow  of  a  precipice,  the  light- 
nings above,  the  ocean  beneath,  and  the  storms  all 
around.  And,  beloved  hearers,  I  do  not  mean  that  open 
and  abandoned  sinner  of  whom  you  just  now  think. 
My  brother,  I  mean  you  !  My  sister,  I  mean  you  !  And 
call  me  not  uncharitable  in  this.  I  speak  only  as  moved 
to  speak  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  Surely  God  knoweth  the 
position  in  which  you  stand.  In  the  text  He  declares 
of  some  one,  that  "Ac  shall  suddenJi/  be  destroyed,  and 
thaticithout  remedy  y'^  and  our  first  business  is,  of  course,, 
to  ascertain  who  can  be  the  subject  of  this  awful  denun- 
ciation. Come,  then,  and  look  at  signs  whereby  we  are 
to  distinguish  him,  and  see  whether  we  were  uncharita- 
ble in  declaring  that  it  is  of  yourself  he  speaks.  "  He 
hath  been  often  reprovedy  yet  he  haixleneth  his  neck.^' 
This  is  the  description  of  the  individual.  Oh  !  is  it  not 
fearfully  applicable  to  yourself? 

I.  In  the  first  place,  am  I  mistaken  in  asserting  that 
you  "  have  been  often  reproved  f^  Often  !  often  !  Oh !. 
where  shall  I  begin  the  dread  arithmetic  of  the  warn- 
ings that  have  met  you  on  your  way  to  death  ? 

1.  You  have  been  reproved  by  the  surrounding 
creation.  In  the  ethics  of  theology  is  it  a  principle  that 
the  very  possibility  of  a  God,  and  by  far  much  more, 
the  probable  evidence  of  a  God,  lays  us  under  obligations 
to  love  and  obey  Him  ?  So  that  on  every  material  mani- 
festation of  the  Divine  being  and  the  Divine  perfections 
does  there  come  to  the  observant  creature  a  call  unto 
religious  reverence.  How  often,  then,  in  the  glories  of 
the  material  world  have  you  been  warned  and  reproved 
in  your  course  of  sinful  forgetfulness  of  God  ?  The  sun 
in  his  great  journeyings  and  the  stars  in  their  watches,. 


202  UNHEEDED   WARNING. 

how  brilliantly  have  they  syllabled  Jehovah's  name 
across  yon  vault  of  heaven  !  The  thunder  and  the  storm 
and  the  dash  of  ocean  and  the  rush  of  the  wild  cataract, 
liow  as  with  the  voice  of  many  waters  have  they  cried 
of  God  ;  yea,  in  the  fiiU  of  the  rain -drop,  in  the  rustle 
of  the  green  leaf,  in  the  ripple  of  the  bright  stream,  in 
the  soft  breath  of  summer  winds,  how  beautifuj  hath 
come  the  voice  of  witness  unto  the  Eternal  One!  Nor 
this  alone.  Not  only  of  God,  but  of  God  cm  God  have 
they  given  witness  ;  of  His  majesty  and  His  might  and 
His  goodness  and  tlis  grandeur  and  His  glory.  And  often, 
very  often,  as  you  stood  breathing  the  air  of  heaven,  amid 
a  Avorld  of  sunshine  or  beneath  the  sparkling  canopy  of 
night,  have  you  felt  the  breathings  of  an  invisible  God 
around  you,  and  felt  the  rebuke,  even  of  the  inanimate, 
that  you  had  forgotten  Him  so  long.  And  oh  !  when 
creatures  without  soul  yielded  unto  Him  their  instinctive 
worship  ;  when  the  flowers  sent  up  their  odor,  and  the 
wild  birds  uttered  their  glad  songs,  and  wind  and  wave 
mingled  their  tones'  in  thanksgiving,  and  the  great  world 
seemed  a  majestic  temple,  wherein  every  living  thing 
brought  its  thank-offering  of  praise  unto  the  God  who 
made  it,  then,  verily,  how  have  you  felt  rebuked  as  the 
only  thankless  creatures  in  a  rejoicing  world,  and  bowed 
the  head  for  a  moment  in  shame,  rebuked,  tenderly  and 
touchingly  rebuked  by  the  lilies  of  the  field  and  the 
fowls  of  heaven. 

II.  Then,  too,  by  the  mercies  of  God  to  you  ward 
have  you  been  rebuked.  Gratitude  is  an  instinctive  af- 
fection of  our  nature.  By  the  strong  ties  of  our  moral 
economy  do  the  receipt  of  benefits  linked  unto  the  re- 
turn of   love — gifts   bestowed   by  an  unknown  bene- 


UNHEEDED   WARNING.  203 

factor,  even  by  the  principles  of  a  barbarian  morality — 
lay  us  under  obligation  to  search  him  out  and  acknowl- 
edge the  benefit.  And  when  these  gifts  are  constant  and 
lono^-continued,  and  above  all  received  from  the  hand 
of  one  perfectly  known  and  everywhere  recognized,  how 
loudly  does  every  added  benefit  rebuke  our  forgetful- 
ness  of  the  Benefactor.  Think,  then,  to-day,  beloved, 
of  God's  unnumbered  blessings  lavislied  upon  you. 
The  food  you  have  eaten,  the  raiment  you  have  j^ut  on, 
the  waters  of  earth,  the  winds  of  heaven,  the  ^weet 
home  that  hath  sheltered  you,  the  dear  friends  with 
whom  you  have  taken  sweet  council,  the  father,  the 
mother,  the  husband,  the  wife,  the  sister,  the  child,  oh  ! 
they  are  all  God's  constant  gifts  unto  you.  And  rush- 
ing on  in  that  pathway  of  sin,  wdiich  is  notliing  else  in 
the  w^orld  than  a  pathway  of  forgetfulness  of  your 
Heavenly  ^ather^s  claims  upon  your  gratefulness  and 
love,  how  mighty,  how  continual,  how,  daily  and  hour- 
ly, yea,  how,  repeated  a  thousand  times  every  day  and 
every  hour,  have  God's  mercies  met  you  Avith  a  reproof 
for  the  forgetfulness  of  such  wonders  of  a  Father's 
kindness  and  a  Father's  care. 

III.  Nor  this  only.  Even  as  a  God  of  providence 
hath  Jehovah  spoken  unto  you  in  sterner  accents.  He 
hath  terrified  you  by  His  thunders,  as  well  as  wooed  you 
by  the  sounds  of  harmony.  Do  you  remember  that 
hour  when  by  fire  and  flood  and  the  robber's  violence 
and  the  falsehood  of  friends  He  took  away  your  pos- 
sessions, and  left  you  on  the  border-line  of  very  pov- 
erty ?  That  hour  when  He  stretched  forth  HLs  hand  and 
touched  the  dear  one  of  your  household,  and  great  fear 
was  upon  you  lest  life's  sunshine  should  all  fade  away 


204  UNHEEDED   WARNING. 

with  the  coining  of  the  shadow  over  the  beloved  eye  ? 
That  lioiir  when  under  the  pressure  of  strong  disease 
you  yourselves  were  brought  unto  the  very  border  of 
eternity,  and  the  spirit  seemed  about  to  pass  the  great 
line  that  lieth  between  the  mortal  and  the  unsheltered 
mysteries  of  the  immortality  ?  That  hour  when  the  dear 
friend  died  in  your  household,  and  you  stood  broken- 
hearted by  the  death-bed,  and  went  out  and  looked 
down  lonely  and  desolate  into  the  dark  grave,  and  felt 
in  all  its  omnipotence  that  bountifully  the  Lord  had 
given,  yet  bitterly  again  had  the  Lord  taken  away  ?  Oh  I 
do  you  remember  all  those  hours  ?  And  do  you  not 
know  that  the  great  God  Avho  had  so  often  spoken  in 
tenderness  was  then  speaking  unto  you  in  the  accents  of 
His  unspeakable  terribleness,  and  that  just  so  often  as 
there  hath  come  over  your  earthly  path  a  darkening 
shadow,  have  ye  been  met  in  that  pathway  by  words  of 
reproof  ? 

IV.  Then  again  have  you  been  reproved  by  your 
own  conscience — Gdd's  preacher  within  you.  You  re- 
member that  forbidden  pleasure  wherein  you  indulged. 
You  remember  that  acknowledged  duty  from  which  you 
refrained.  You  remember  that  neighbor  whom  you 
wronged,  that  friend  whom  you  abused,  that  dear  father 
whose  eye  you  caused  to  weep,  that  dear  mother  Avhose 
gentle  heart  you  broke.  You  remember  that  sanctuary 
from  which  you  refrained,  that  Sabbath  whose  hours  you 
wasted,  and  whose  opportunities  you  abused,  and  whose 
ordinances  you  slighted.  You  remember  those  bright 
rnornings  when  you  went  forth  to  worldly  toil  thought- 
less of  God,  and  those  starry  nights  when  you  pressed 
your  pillow^s  of  slumber  with  a  thankless  heart.     Yea^ 


UNHEEDED   WARNING.  205 

YOU  remember  in  ten  thousand  hours  of  life  how  there 
hath  come  mightily  upon  the  soul  a  eonsciousnevSS  of  ill- 
desert  and  a  foreboding  of  God's  anger  and  a  fear  of 
hell.  And  nothing  else  was  it  in  the  world  than  the 
voice  of  God's  vicegerent  within  you,  uttering  with 
heavenly  authority  its  stern  reproof. 

V.  Yes,  and  more  directly  even  than  this,  hath  been 
the  rebuke  of  the  God  of  heaven  in  your  wayward  path. 
The  Bible  !  Ah  !  therein  hath  He  spoken  audibly.  It 
is  the  Word  of  God — Jehovah^s  breathing  language. 
Ye  may  not  have  read  it,  but  if  it  has  been  in  your 
households,  if  it  hath  lain  neglected  on  your  shelves, 
yet  have  you  never  passed  the  spot  where  that  abused 
Bible  reposed,  but  there  hath  stolen  up  from  its  unopened 
pages  the  stern  and  startling  words  of  its  Divine  reproof. 
And  if  you  have  opened  it,  oh  !  in  every  word  you 
have  read,  from  the  first  childhood's  lesson  at  your 
mother's  knee  to  the  very  portion  which  to-day  has  been 
read  in  your  hearing,  ye  have  heard  nothing  else  than 
the  voice  of  the  great  God  breathed  in  loving  whispers 
on  your  ear.  It  hath  told  you  of  a  flood  of  waters  round 
about  a  world,  of  a  fire  storm  wasting  into  ashes  the 
cities  of  the  plain,  of  Mt.  Sinai  with  its  dark  clouds 
and  its  deep  thunders  and  its  awful  words,  of  Bethle- 
hem's manger  and  Bethany's  sepulchre  and  Gethsemane's 
olives  and  Calvary's  Cross.  It  hath  told  you  of  death 
as  appointed  unto  all  men,  of  an  immortality  which 
shall  pass  unscathed  the  fires  of  the  world's  burning,  of 
a  sound  of  the  archangel's  trumpet  over  the  sleeping- 
dead,  of  a  resurrection  unto  life  and  a  resurrection  unto 
damnation,  of  the  vision  of  the  throne  and  a  gathering 
of  the  dead^  small  and  great,  before  God,  and  the  open- 


206  UNHEEDED   WARNING. 

ing  of  the  Books,  and  of  another  Book,  which  was  the 
Book  of  Life,  of  the  judging  of  the  dead  out  of  the 
things  written  therein,  according  to  their  works.  It 
hath  told  you  of  the  beautiful  words  of  welcome,  sweeter 
than  the  words  of  an  angel,  when  He  shall  say  unto  them 
on  His  right  hand,  "Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father.'^ 
It  hath  told  you  of  those  terrible  words  of  doom,  Avhen, 
forgetful,  as  it  were,  of  all  His  tenderness,  unto  them  on 
the  left  hand  He  shall  say,  "Depart,  ye  cursed."  Yea,  it 
hath  flung  the  light  of  its  inspired  description  over  the 
wide  realms  which  lie  on  the  other  side  of  the  Judgment. 
It  hath  told  of  the  blackness  of  darkness  and  the  worm 
and  the  flame  and  the  smoke  of  the  torment  and  the 
sackcloth  of  hair  and  all  the  dread  and  desolate  realities 
which  constitute  the  eternity  of  the  poor  outcasts  of  con- 
demnation. Yea,  it  hath  told  of  heaven,  of  the  gates 
of  pearl,  of  the  streets  of  gold,  of  the  living  water,  of 
the  trees  of  life,  of  those  glorious  mansions  of  that 
realm  of  rest.  And,  oh!  in  all  these  burning  and 
resistless  words  have  you  heard  nothing  else  than  the 
living  whisper  of  the  great  God  uttering  in  your  wild 
and  wayward  pathway  His  dread  reproof? 

VI.  Then,  too,  by  His  ordinances.  Oh,  how  many 
precious  Sabbaths  and  sanctuary  privileges  have  you 
enjoyed  on  earth  !  Go  far  back  into  childhood  ;  call  to 
mind  all  the  wooing  ministrations  of  heaven  that  have 
gathered  around  you ;  remember  that  dear  father,  how 
at  morning  and  evening  he  knelt  amid  his  household, 
and  commended  you  to  God ;  remember  that  dear  mother, 
cold,  it  may  be,  in  the  grave  to-day,  how  often  she.  came 
to  your  bedside,  and  took  your  little  hand  in  hers,  and 
taught  you  to  say,  "  Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven  ; " 


UNHEEDED   WARNING.  207 

remember  that  Sabbath-school  teacher,  who  never  met 
you  save  tenderly  to  avoo  you  to  the  Saviour ;  remember 
that  dear  sister,  au  angel,  it  may  be,  in  the  skies  to-day, 
who,  loving  you  only  as  a  sister  can,  thought  most 
intently  of  your  eternity,  and  besought  you,  as  if  her 
heart  would  break,  that  you  would  turn  from  your  way- 
wardness and  trust  in  the  dear  Redeemer ;  remember 
that  man  of  God  ;  yea,  remember  all  those  men  of  God, 
who  in  all  the  Sabbaths  of  your  long  lives  have  stood 
up  in  the  holy  place,  and  warned  and  entreated  and  be- 
sought, by  all  the  resistless  motives  of  time  and  eternity 
besought,  and  with  tears  and  suffering  and  anguish  be- 
sought ;  yea,  in  all  the  eager  and  earnest  importunity  of 
immortal  love,  as  if  the  dear,  bleeding,  dying  Lamb  of 
God  plead  with  you,  in  Christ's  stead  besought  you  to 
be  reconciled  to  God.  Oh  !  remember  all  these  tender 
messages  of  mercy,  and  know  that  in  every  one  of  them 
you  heard  nothing  else  than  the  breathing  whisper  of  the 
Eternal  One  uttering  in  your  dark  and  downward  path- 
way its  kind  reproof. 

VII.  And  most  of  all  have  you  been  reproved  by 
the  Spirit  of  God.  There  have  been  times,  more  in 
frequency  than  you  can  well  remember,  when  the  great 
truths  of  eternity  seemed  to  jiress  with  new  power  upon 
the  conscience.  Go  back  and  recall  them  now.  That 
hour  of  solitude  in  the  still  midnight ;  that  night  of 
vigil  by  the  bed  of  death ;  that  season  when  under  the 
influence  of  disease  you  felt  yourselves  very  near  unto 
the  putting  on  the  immortality ;  that  sudden  impression 
of  some  long-forgotten  Scripture  upon  the  memory; 
that  season  of  solemn  prayer  in  the  household ;  those 
tender  and  touching  appeals  from  the  sacred  desk  ;  those 


208  UNHEEDED   WARNING. 

months  of  revival ;  when  hardened  consciences  were 
moving  all  around  you  under  the  force  of  truth.  Oh  ! 
you  can  remember  a  thousand  liours  to-day,  wherein  the 
pressure  of  mightier  thoughts  came  down  upon  you, 
when  earthly  life  seemed  but  a  vapor,  and  mortal  gold 
and  gladness  and  glory  seemed  but  childisli  toys,  and 
death  seemed  an  impending  reality,  and  the  Judgment  a 
living  scene  to  wliicli  you  were  hastening,  and  heaven  a 
glorious  home  unto  the  risen  spirit,  and  eternal  things 
came  pressing  on  you  with  all  their  mighty  and  moment- 
ous realities.  And  know  you,  oh  !  know  you,  that  in 
ull  these  hours  of  solemn  thought  ye  were  listening  unto 
a  voice  of  the  great  God  whispering  within  you.  The 
Holy  Spirit  was  all  mightily  around  you  on  invisible 
wings,  and  your  soul  was  bowed  unto  the  mastery  of 
His  stern  reproof. 

Kow,  time  would  fail  us  to  pursue  fartlier  this  mourn- 
ful enumeration.  Sit  down  candidly,  beloved,  and  com- 
pute, as  you  can,  the  reproofs  which  so  earnestly  and  so 
constantly,  in  different  scenes  and  in  different  forms, 
have  met  you  in  life  liitherto;  and  tell  me  honestly 
whether  your  own  consciences  do  not  witness  that  I 
speak  of  you  truthfully,  and  not  in  unkindness,  when 
I  declare  of  every  one  of  you  out  of  ChriL^t,  that  ye  are 
of  the  class  spoken  of  in  the  text  as  those  who  have 
been  often,  very  often  reproved  ?  And  if  you  ad- 
mit the  application  of  the  first  part  of  the  description, 
will  you  dare  deny  the  application  of  the  second  point — 
that  ''ye  have  hardened  the  neck  against  such  reproof ?" 
Surely  it  needs  not  demonstration  on  such  a  point.  Did 
time  permit,  Ave  might  dwell  here  at  great  length,  and 
show  how  against  God's  creation  and  Providence  and 


UNHEEDED   WARNING,  209 

Word  and  ordinances  and  Spirit  you  had  been,  from  the 
first  dawn  of  your  intelligence,  hardening  yourself  in 
the  language  of  the  text.  The  metaphor  is  of  a  bullock 
in  his  untutored  stubbornness,  refusing  to  submit  his 
neck  to  the  yoke.  And  in  its  application  to  yourselves 
the  meaning  is,  that  you  have  not  yielded  your  hearts 
and  lives  in  ready  obedience  to  the  Divine  Avill.  You 
are  walking  to-day  in  the  broad  way  to  death,  while  all 
the  tendency  of  God's  reproofs  has  been  to  turn  you 
into  the  narrow  way  which  leadeth  unto  heaven.  And 
how  otherwise,  if  you  have  human  hearts  within  you, 
can  you  have  resisted  all  those  tender  reproofs,  save  by  a 
voluntary  hardening  of  your  hearts  ?  Oh  !  there  has 
been  might  in  the  motives,  and  power  and  pathos  in  the 
persuasions,  and  deep  love  mingled  in  the  entreaties, 
and  a  heavenly  tenderness  in  all  those  appeals,  which 
nothing  but  a  hardened,  and  that,  too,  a  voluntarilv 
hardened  conscience  could  resist  so  long.  The  c|uestion, 
then,  to-day  is  simply  this,  Are  you  Christians  to-day? 
Have  you  turned  from  the  broad  way  ?  Are  you  walking 
in  the  narrow  path?  Have  you  repented  of  sin?  Have 
you  fled  to  the  Saviour  ?  Do  you  love  God  ?  Are  you 
ready  for  heaven  ?  Hereunto  tended  all  the  reproofs  of 
heaven.  If  ye  die  not  walking  toward  heaven,  ye 
have  not  yielded  unto  them,  yea,  you  have  hard- 
ened yourselves  against  them.  And  therefore  we 
judge  not  in  unkindness  ;  we  speak  not  without  charity  ; 
we  do  verily  but  repeat  the  burning  words  of  the 
great  God,  who  can  not  but  understand  the  hastening 
destiny  of  "every  immortal  soul.  Of  you,  my  brother, 
and  you,  my  sister,  we  do  solemnly  declare,  that  ye 
'^  shall  suddenly  he  destroyed,  and  that  without  remedy J^ 


210  UNHEEDED   WARNING. 

We  have  not  time  Iiere  to  enter  into  what  may  be 
called  the  philosophy  of  the  retributions  of  the  lost. 
The  destruction  here  spoken  of  is  manifestly  that  every- 
where referred  to  in  Scripture  as  that  terrible  revelation 
of  Divine  anger  taking  vengeance  on  those  who  know 
not  God  and  obey  not  the  Gospel,  who  shall  be  punished 
with  everlasting  destruction  from  the  presence  of  God 
and  the  glory  of  His  power.  And  in  proof  that  such 
destruction  is  impending  over  every  hardened  sinner 
to-day,  we  quote  only  the  *'sure  word  of  Prophecy.'^ 
If  there  be  one  here  who  trusts  in  impenitency  to  tlie 
belief  that  all  men  will  be  saved,  we  cut  the  matter 
short  with  this  question  :  Who  knoweth  best — you  or 
God  ?  Dare  you  ?  Oh  !  dare  you  go  on  to  the  Judgment 
staking  all  the  high  destinies  of  your  immortal  soul  on 
the  awful  probability  that,  after  all,  God  may  be  mis- 
taken in  what  shall  constitute  a  spirit's  eternity  ?  Does 
not  He  who  maketh  the  surge  to  toss  itself,  and  the 
flames  to  play  ;  does  not  He  know  what  He  meaneth  by 
that  awful  word-^"  destruction  f^  And  when  He  put- 
teth  His  own  tremendous  exegesis  on  it,  declaring  that 
it  is  an  everlasting  destruction  from  the  presence  of 
God  and  the  glory  of  His  power,  dare  you  ?  oh !  dare 
you  trust  your  salvation  on  the  awful  improbability  that 
the  great  God  speaketh  falsely  ?  Nay,  let  God  be  true 
and  every  man  a  liar  ;  and  if  He  is  true,  then  I  speak  to 
no  one  of  you  to-day  who  hath  been  reproved  often, 
and  yet  remained  hardened  against  Him  who  standeth 
not  this  very  moment  on  the  border-line  of  a  sudden 
and  remediless  destruction. 

^^  He  shall  he  destroyed  P^  "  He  shall  he  destroyed  V^' 
So  saith  Jehovah  ;  and  who  can  gainsay  it  ?  "  He  shall 


UNHEEDED   WARNING.  211 

he  destroyed  ^  What  meaneth  it  ?  Tell  us,  oh,  ye  lost, 
what  mean  these  awful  words — the  worm  and  the  flame 
and  the  smoke  of  the  torment  I  "  lie  shall  be  destroyed, 
suddenly  " — unexpectedly j  in  a  i-ioment.  As  the  fire-storm 
on  the  cities  of  the  plain — out  of  a  sky  that  was  beau- 
tiful and  glorious — so  shall  death  come,  suddenly,  sud- 
denly. Yen,  and  above  all  else,  matc^hlcssly,  terrible  in 
its  revelation,  "  Destroyed  v:ithout  reuicdy  /''  The  worm 
tliat  dieth  —  Avhen  ?  Oh  !  that  dietli  not.  The  flames 
(juenchablc — wlien  ?  Oh  !  unquenchable.  Death  that 
hath  its  last  rending  agony — when  ?  Xay.  death  that 
never,  never  dies.  The  smoke  of  the  torment  going  up 
— how  lono:  ?  Oh  !  forever.  Oh  !  forever  and  ever. 
The  great  dial-plate  of  that  eternal  realm  of  death  to 
the  meridian  forever — one  eternal  noon  of  night.  And 
the  w^atchmen  that  walk  amid  its  vast  shadows,  pausing 
now  and  then  in  their  everlasting  circles  and  sending 
the  watchword  abroad  over  all  ^hat  realm  of  desolation 
— eternity  !  eternity  ! 

^'  He  shcdl  suddenly  he  destroyed,  and  that  without 
remedy.''^  "He^' — who  ?  Oh  !  who  is  it  standing  thus, 
like  the  child  on  the  ocean's  verge  or  the  dread  abyss 
of  death  ?  Who  ?  You,  my  dear  hearer,  you  !  you  !  My 
dear  little  child,  to-day  you  have  been  in  the  Sabbath- 
school  and  heard  of  Christ ;  and  if  you  do  not  love 
the  precious  Saviour,  you  have  hardened  yourself  against 
Plim ;  and  this  very  night  you  may  die.  Beloved 
youth,  again  in  God's  house  to-day  have  you  been 
reproved.  To-morrow  you  may  be  in  that  awful  w^orld 
where  they  have  no  Bible,  and  never,  never  hear  of 
Christ  again.  And  you  who  are  of  manly  strength  and 
manly   stature,   unbelieving,   yet   beloved   men,   again 


212  UNHEEDED    WARNING. 

now  do  I  warn  yoii,  and  the  next  Sabbath  bell 
which  suniinons  us  to  worship  may  ring  out  above  your 
grave.  These  are  God's  truths,  my  hearers  ;  and  think 
you  that,  believing  them  as  I  do,  that  though  my  lieart 
were  a  thousand  times  harder  and  more  selfish  than  it 
is  ;  yea,  though  my  heart  Avas  hard  as  the  rocks  and  as 
pulseless  as  the  sleeping  tenants  of  the  graves,  I  could 
look  on  you  thus  (if  there  be  truth  in  all  this  fearful 
Book)  on  the  brink  of  everlasting  ruin,  asleep  upon  the 
jutting  verge  of  the  precipice,  out  at  sea  upon  a  shat- 
tered bark  in  a  night  of  storms,  standing  like  the  lone 
pillar  in  the  wilderness,  a  mighty  mark  for  all  the  light- 
nings of  the  skies,  reposing  on  the  slippery  rock  a  single 
foot  above  the  roaring  billows,  and  the  tide  rising  and 
the  foothold  gone,  oh  !  think  you  I  can  look  on  you 
thas,  you  unto  whom  in  my  short  ministry  my  heart 
hath  gone  out  tenderly,  you  whom  I  have  learned  to 
look  for  and  love,  whose  names  are  on  my  tongue  in 
many  a  prayer  of  midnight,  and  whose  names  will  be 
found  linked  tenderly  to  my  heart  when  that  heart 
breaks.  Oh!  can  I  look  upon  you  thus,  hardened 
against  God,  despisers  of  Jesus,  trampling  under  foot 
of  the  precious  blood,  yea,  accursed  of  God,  brands 
awaiting  the  burning,  for  whom  the  flames  kindle  and 
the  smoke  ascends  ;  can  I  think  of  you  thus,  and  not 
weep,  and  not  plead,  and  not  beseech  with  earnestness 
and  agony  and  tears,  that  to-day  ye  will  come  unto  the 
Saviour,  for  to-morrow  ye  may  be  lost  forever  !  Lost  I 
lost!  lost! 


THE  ONLY  DELIVERER. 


"  Oh  wretched  man  that  I  am  .'  iviio  shall  deliver  tnc  from  the  body 
cf  this  death  ? 

2  thaitk  God  through  Christ  jesus  our  Lord.'' — Romans  vii. 
24,  25. 

More  than  once  in  this  desk  have  we  enlarged  upon 
the  thought  that  tlie  very  material  of  infidel  cavil  fur- 
nishes unto  the  redeemed  polemic  the  richest  matter  of 
Christian  advocacy.  And  we  have  illustrated  it  by  the 
very  ravil  drawn  from  the  text  and  its  parallel  con- 
nections— the  recorded  shortcomings  of  Christ's  cove- 
nant disciples.  You  all  know  how  frequently  the  im- 
perfections and  crimes  of  Bible  saints  are  dwelt  upon 
by  the  sceptic  as  an  objection  to  the  Bible's  inspiration. 
But  surely  never  was  there  a  merer  sophism.  The 
record  itself  furnishes  the  very  noblest  argument  for 
the  Bible's  honesty  and  tlie  Bible's  ingenuousness;  and 
scarcely  is  there  a  point  of  area  in  which  the  tenderness 
of  our  Heavenly  Father  unto  His  beloved  but  imper- 
fect children  meets  a  nobler  manifestation.  For  while 
a  Christian  takes  no  pleasure  in  the  faults  of  others,  and 
mourns  as  over  the  ruins  of  his  own  nature,  that  so  much 
of  imperfection  should  pertain  to  man's  holiest  exercises, 
yet  feeling  within  himself  constantly  the  emotions  of 
unlioliness,  and  knowing  how  in  everything  he  cometh 
short  daily,  and  in  fear  lest  in  all  his  strivings  he  should, 
after  all,  become  a  castaway.  It  is  a  satisfaction  and 
greatly  an  encouragement,  to  know  that  his  is  the  very 


214  THE  ONLY  DELIVERER. 

experience  of  all  the  redeemed  who  have  gone  before 
him ;  that  it  was  through  a  great  warfare  of  temptation 
that  they  obtained  the  inlieritance  of  the  sanctified,  and 
that,  compassed  about  with  infirmities,  their  sanctifica- 
tion  was  but  rudimental  on  earth,  so  that  then,  at  last 
perfected,  salvation  was  all  of  God's  mercy,  yea,  so  as 
by  fire. 

Now,  it  will  have  already  occurred  to  those  of  you 
who  possess  the  very  commonest  acquaintance  with  the 
polemics  of  our  distinctive  communion  ;  that  in  speak- 
ing of  this  passage  of  Scripture  as  a  record  of  the  im- 
perfections of  a  Christian  on  earth,  we  have  placed  our- 
selves on  the  border-line  of  a  great  and  a  growing  con- 
troversy ;  for  tJie  passage  contains  no  such  record  if  the 
Apostle  Paul  be  not  here  describing  his  own  personal 
experience  after  regeneration.  And  you  are  none  of 
you  ignorant  that  many  dear  brethren  in  Christ  who 
maintain  the  perfectability  of  Christian  character  on 
earth  most  strenuously  deny  this.  It  is  not,  of  course,  our 
design  in  this  connection  to  enter  at  any  length  into  the 
polemics  of  this  discussion.  We  think  that  so  far  as 
this  text  is  concerned  there  has  been  on  both  sides  a 
very  great  waste  of  w^ords  in  the  matter.  We  do  not, 
indeed,  see  how  with  any  justness  the  controversy  can 
be  made  to  hinge  on  the  exposition  you  give  to  this 
passage.  Grant  that  tlie  writer  is  here  speaking  of  him- 
self— of  himself,  too,  subsequent  to  his  conversion — 
that  the  passage  is  descriptive  of  the  inner  experience, 
not  of  Saul  of  Tarsus,  but  of  Paul  the  Apostle,  and 
what  does  it  prove  ?  TJiat  perfection  is  not  attainable 
-  in  this  world  ?  No  such  tiling.  But  that  Paul  did  not 
attain   unto   it  ;  that   is   all.      Our  sympathies   are,  of 


THE  ONLY  DELIVERER.  215 

-course,  with  those  who  in  theory  deny  the  positive  per- 
fectability  of  the  species  on  earth,  though  we  do  think  it 
a  matter  most  strange  and  subversive  of  high  attain- 
ments of  piety  to  hold  forth  from  the  pulpit  the  doc- 
trine that  through  some  constitutional  inabilities  men  are 
to  be  held  excusable  for  the  remains  of  indwelling  sin. 
But  ])e  our  sympathies  as  they  may,  we  do  not  perceive 
how  our  text  can  be  drawn  or  driven  to  take  sides  in 
the  controversy.  The  most  claimed  for  it  is,  that  it 
speaks  of  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  as  yet  not  entirely 
sanctified,  and  that  the  claims  of  attainment  unto  per- 
fection must  have  far  outstripped  the  converted  Disciple 
of  Gamaliel  in  the  Christian  race. 

We  have,  then,  nothing  now' to  do  with  the  creed  of 
the  perfectionist.  Our  text  can  be  regarded  only  as  a 
passage  of  the  experience  of  a  Christian  still  struggling 
with  the  remains  of  corruption.  And  yet  you  will  per- 
ceive that  in  this  reference  the  verse  will  profit  us 
nothing  unless  it  is  regarded  as  spoken  by  Paul  subse- 
quent to  his  conversion,  so  that  the  great  preliminary  of 
the  controversy  just  adverted  to  remains  still  to  be 
adjusted.  The  previous  question,  then,  for  our  settle- 
ment is.  Did  the  Apostle  in  this  passage  speak  of  his 
own  religious  experience  subsequent  to  regeneration  ? 
^ye  answer  that  so  it  seems  unto  us  for  the  following 
reasons : 

First.  Because  the  foi-e-front  aspect  of  the  passage 
favors  this  ioterpretatlon.  The  first  person  as  well  as 
the  present  tense  runs  through  the  whole  connection. 
^^  I  consent  to  the  law  that  is  good."  ^^  I  delight  in  the 
law  of  God."  '■'  I  see  another  law  in  my  members." 
Yea,  as  if  to  meet  \\\q  very  objection,  he  adds,  ^^  So, 


216  THE  ONLY  DELIVERER. 

then,  I  myself  serve  the  law  of  God."  And  all  this 
profusion  of  personal  diction  burns  upon  his  lip  with 
Paul's  sublimest  ardor,  as  if  wrung  from  him  by  the. 
anxieties  and  agonies  of  intense  personal  experience. 
To  suppose  that  here  he  but  personates  another — as 
some  say,  a  Jew  before  the  giving  of  the  law,  and  then 
after  it ;  or  as  others,  a  Gentile  without  the  law,  as 
opposed  to  a  Jew  under  it ;  or  as  still  others,  an  ordi- 
nary individual  under  the  influences  of  a  knowledge  of 
the  law,  is  at  variance  with  the  whole  possibilities  of  the 
language  and  foreign  to  the  whole  spirit  of  the  writer^ 
and  nothing  better  than  a  putting  of  God's  truth  to  the 
rack  and  the  thumbscrew  to  make  it  give  evidence  in 
favor  of  a  preconceived  thought. 

Second.  There  is  no  necessity  of  this  forced  and 
unnatural  construction  of  the  language.  There  is  not  an 
expression  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  which  tells  us 
not  with  the  experience  of  the  holiest  man  among  you. 
^^Sold  under  sin,"  by  a  forced  and  fanciful  exegesis  may 
mean  something  inconsistent  with  regenerating  grace, 
but  not  as  explained  by  the  Apostle  and  limited  by  the 
context.  Such  exposition  is  not  only  gratuitous  ;  it  is 
absolutely  uncalled  for. 

Third.  This  passage,  while  it  contains  nothing  in- 
consistent with  the  experience  of  a  real  Christian,  does 
positively  contain  much  absolutely  untrue  If  asserted  in 
respect  of  any  unrenewed  man.  An  impenitent  heart 
does  not  consent  to  the  law  of  God  ;  does  not  hate  sin  ; 
does  not  struggle  against  sin ;  does  not  groan  under  it 
as  a  tyrant's  yoke ;  does  not  delight  in  the  law  of  God 
after  the  inner  man.  A'^erily  it  requires  all  the  mighty 
torturing   of    the    inquisition   to   render    this   passage 


THE   ONLY  DELIVERER.  217 

possible  in  its  application  to  one  altogether  unregene- 
rate. 

Fourth.  And  especially,  though  upon  the  illustra- 
tion of  this  point  our  limits  forbid  us  to  dwell.  The 
whole  tenor  of  the  Apostle's  argument  seems  absolutely 
to  demand  that  we  should  understand  hira  here  as 
referring  to  Christian  experience.  For  these  and  rea- 
sons like  to  these,  the  obvious  sense  of  the  passage  seems 
the  true  sense  ;  and  he  who  by  an  unnatural  violence 
wrests  them  from  the  lessons  of  a  fair  and  a  faithful 
exposition,  seems  to  us,  if  nothing  worse,  at  least  guiltj 
of  handling  the  Word  of  God  deceitfully.  AVe  question 
to  no  man  the  right  of  a  personal  and  private  interpre- 
tation, but  we  do  question  to  any  man,  yea,  we  do 
deny  to  man  or  minister  or  angel  the  right  of  stretching 
the  body  of  God's  truth  upon  the  rack  of  human 
opinion,  that  amid  fierce  torturing  it  may  be  made  to 
give  testimony  in  support  of  a  He.  If  there  be  anv 
such  thing  as  an  obvious  and  unavoidable  exegesis  of 
Revelation,  then  does  the  Apostle  Paul  here,  as  in  other 
passages,  positively  affirm  that  he  had  not  yet  attained 
unto  a  freedom  from  carnality,  and  that  his  whole  life 
was  one  agonizing  struggle  with  remaining  sin. 

Now,  viewed  as  an  expression  of  Paul's  experience 
subsequent  to  conversion,  the  text  sets  forth  in  order 
these  two  things  :  The  despondency  and  the  triumphant 
exultation  of  a  Christian  in  view  of  this  indwelling  cor- 
ruption. 

First,  then,  let  us  see  how  the  text  illustrates  the  de- 
spondency of  a  Christian  in  respect  of  his  remaining 
corruptions. 

*^  Oh  I  wretched  man  that  I  am  I    Who  shall  deliver  me 


218  THE  ONLY  DELIVERER. 

from  the  body  of  fJm  death  f  Herein  is  most  touchingly 
set  forth  two  associated  emotions.  The  first  is  the  dis- 
tress occasioned  by  this  remaining  corruption.  ^^  Oh! 
wretched  mem  thd  I  am  ^  It  was  no  delight  to  Paul 
that  a  remaining  corruption  lingered  amid  the  principles 
of  his  nature.  Under  the  influences  of  the  new  creation 
of  God  had  the  immortality  within  him  been  winged 
for  high  flight  through  heaven,  and  better  and  more 
ennobling  prospects  had  kindled  in  the  soul.  And  oh  ! 
it  seemed  humbling  unto  his  very  nature.  It  seemed  a 
degradation  unto  the  destiny,  a  cloud  upon  the  glory  of 
redeemed  man,  this  remnant  of  the  old  nature  ;  this 
pride  and  passion  and  sloth  and  insensibility  and  uneven 
walking  and  strangeness  to  God  and  grieving  of  the 
Spirit,  which  rise  up  in  vast  strength  amid  the  unsub- 
dued carnality  of  his  nature.  It  rendered  mortal  life  a 
soreness  and  a  degradation — this  iron  linking  of  a 
renewed  soul  unto  the  coarse  and  corrupt  creations  of  a 
polluted  heart.  Yea,  worse  than  this ;  it  rendered  his 
whole  life  a  w^astihg  and  wearisome  warfare  as  they  rose 
up  within  him — those  forms  of  rebellious  principle  and 
propensities  working  abomination. 

The  courage  and  championship  of  Paul  kindled 
mightily  in  heart  and  bosom.  He  who  had  fought  with 
beasts  at  Ephcsus  shrank  not  from  the  conflict  with 
life\s  great  monster — sin — and  in  the  strength  of  a  noble 
purpose  and  the  might  of  an  enlarged  heart,  wherein 
had  been  implanted  the  first  great  principles  of  holiness 
and  heaven,  he  struggled  with  might  and  main  with  that 
ferocious  enemy  of  his  soul.  And  so  long  as  he  strug- 
gled successfully,  and  made  staunch  head  against  the 
onset   of  corruption,  there  was    mingled  with    all   the 


THE  ONLY  DELIVERER.  219 

weariness  of  the  conflict  the  inspiration  and  triumph  of 
a  conflict  as  well.  But,  alas !  not  always;  and  herein 
consisted  the  agony  of  Paul's  impassioned  outcry.  Kot 
ahvays  from  that  terrible  antagonism  did  he  come  off 
more  than  conqueror.  Bitter,  most  bitter,  was  that 
dreadful  experience  of  "  a  law  in  his  members  warring 
with  the  law  of  his  mind,''  and  bringing  him  into  cap- 
tivity to  the  law  of  sin.  And  therefore  out  springs  the 
exclamation  of  the  text.  He  sees  himself  under  the 
figurative  representations  which  had  run  through  the 
whole  preceding  context,  as  a  man  overcome  in  the 
struggle,  taken  captive  on  the  battle-field  and  despoiled 
of  his  armor  and  altogether  at  the  disposal  of  his  con- 
queror. 

Yea,  more  than  this  even.  Whatever  may  be  our 
exegesis  of  the  phrase  ^^hody  of  death  ^^  in  the  text; 
whether  it  mean  this  body  which  is  subject  to  death,  or 
whether,  according  to  Hebrew  idiom,  it  mean  a  body 
deadly  in  its  tendency,  i.  e.j  the  heart's  carnal  affections 
which  leatl  to  death ;  at  least  of  this  there  can  be  little 
doubt,  that  the  language  is  figurative  of  a  terrible  custom 
under  the  ancient  despotism. 

A  captive  taken  in  Avar  was  brought  forth  to  the  mar- 
ket-place, and  a  punishment  inflicted  on  him,  compared 
with  which  roasting,  racking,  crucifylug  were  regarded 
as  merciful  chastisements.  They  took  a  lifeless  and 
loathsome  human  carcass,  and,  placing  it  upon  the 
breathing  captive,  breast  to  breast  and  limb  to  limb  and 
eye  to  eye  and  mouth  to  mouth,  they  bound  them  thus 
by  indissoluble  ligatures — the  living  and  the  dead — and 
sent  them  forth  in  awful  brotherhood  to  lie  down  and 
rise  up  and  walk  abroad,  the  carrion  and  the  captive. 


220  THE  ONLY  DELIVERER. 

Now,  figurative  of  this  custom  is  the  Apostle's  language. 
Sin,  the  foul  tyrant,  assails  him,  and  after  many  striv- 
ings conquers  him,  and  then  sends  him  abroad  to  life's 
duties  a  living  spirit  bound  unto  a  body  of  death.  And 
Avho  wonders  at  Paul's  agonizing  outcry  ?  Though  he 
had  from  the  first,  without  complaint,  endured  a  great 
fight  of  afflictions,  and  taken  joyfully  the  spoiling  of 
goods  and  the  great  perils  in  the  shipwreck,  and  the  loss 
of  all  things,  yet  who  wonders  that  even  Paul  could  not 
bear  tliis  estate  of  partial  sanctification.  But  as  he 
breathed  the  rank  odor  of  the  corrupting  flesh,  lifted  up 
his  voice  in  that  cry  of  agony  and  anguish,  "  Oh ! 
tvrdched  man  that  I  am  !  Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the 
body  of  this  death  f "  And  this  leads  me  to  speak  of  the 
second  emotion  which,  in  view  of  his  indwelling  corrup- 
tion, rose  up  in  the  Apostle's  soul,  namely,  his  despond- 
ency. ^'  Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death  f  This  is  the  language  of  the  very  strongest  and 
most  overwhelming  doubt  and  despondency.  So  long 
as  with  success  he  struggled  against  the  tyrant's.assaults, 
then,  notwithstanding  all  the  urgency  and  ardor  of  the 
conflict,  his  heart  might  bound  with  high  rapture.  But 
now  he  is  overcome  of  temptation ;  a  remaining  evil 
propensity  hath  proved  too  mighty  for  his  weakness, 
and  again  is  he  in  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin.  The 
fetter  of  the  monster  is  upon  life  and  limb,  and  whence 
can  he  look  for  deliverance?  Can  the  law  aid  him? 
Nay,  its  very  breathing  is  of  condemnation.  When  the 
commandment  came  sin  revived  and  I  died.  Can  his 
fellow-men  aid  him?  Nay,  the  whole  race,  like  himself, 
are  led  captive  ol  the  enemy,  unable  alike  to  free  them- 
selves from  the  foul  burden.     C^an  he  look  forward  to 


THE  ONL  Y  DELIVERER.  '  221 

mightier  success  in  his  own  unaided  struggles  ?  Xay,  he 
hath  been  conquered  in  fair  fighting.  The  law  of  his 
members  warring  with  the  law  of  his  mind,  even  against 
all  his  strugglings,  hath  gotten  the  mastery  and  brought 
him  into  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin  Avhieli  was  in  his 
members ;  and  can  he  hope  hereafter  I  )etter  to  resist  ? 
Why,  look  you  !  He  is  a  captive,  and  at  tlie  disposal  of 
the  victor  ;  yea,  a  bound  captive,  and  in  the  forth-put- 
ting of  that  victor's  malignity,  bound  like  the  barbarian 
bondman  unto  the  body  of  death. 

And  what  hope  that  in  his  own  strength  he  shall 
hereafter  be  enabled  to  tear  away  the  iron  fetter,  and 
cast  away  the  carcass,  and  lay  hold  on  the  relinquished 
armor,  and  go  forth  again  unto  the  conflict  so  staunchly 
that  the  conqueror  sliall  become  the  captive,  and  the 
mighty  la\v  in  the  members  be  brought  into  captivity  to 
the  laAV  of  the  mind  ?  He  goes  forth  under  the  terrible 
imagery  of  the  text,  a  dead  body  bound  to  his  body, 
brow  to  brow  and  limb  to  limb  and  lip  to  lip,  and  his 
strength  is  withered,  and  his  muscles  palsied,  and  his 
heart  all  faintness,  and  every  breath  he  breathes  thick 
with  the  damp  odor  of  decay.  And  oh  !  whither  can 
he  look  for  deliverance  ?  Unto  Avhat  aid  and  what  arm 
can  he  betake  himself,  that  the  fetters  may  be  loosed 
and  the  dread  load  removed,  and  he  stand  erect  again  in 
the  dignity  of  his  immortal  manhood  ?  Who  wonders 
that  he  stands  still  in  the  gloom  of  a  deep  despond- 
ency? Who  wonders  that  there  seems  unto  him  no  aid 
in  all  the  services  of  creature  championship  ?  Who 
wonders  that  the  cry  of  his  agonized  spirit  is,  "  Oh  I 
wretohed  man  that  I  am  !  Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the 
body  of  this  death  f 


222  THE  OJSILY  DELIVERER. 

Now,  this  leads  lis  to  a  consideration  of  i^^  second 
great  point  of  the  passage — the  triumphant  exultation 
of  the  Christian,  even  under  the  oppressive  weight  of 
this  indwelling  corruption.  So  it  was  with  Paul.  For 
no  sooner  do  you  behold  him  crushed  down  to  the  dust 
under  the  burden  of  this  terrible  despondency  than  you 
behold  him  leaping  again  joyfully  into  the  struggle  with 
the  destroyer  with  this  exultant,  "  Thanhs  be  unto  God 
through  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.''^  There  are  two  ways 
of  explaining  this  clause  of  the  connection,  as  we  adopt 
one  or  the  other  reading  of  the  different  manuscripts. 
The  first  is  to  suppose  the  sentence  complete  as  it  is. 
The  passage  "  I  thank  God''  being  originally  ''The 
Grace  of  God,''  the  whole  passage,  then,  standing  thus, 
"  TF/io  shall  deliver  me,"  etc.,  and  the  answer,  ''  The 
grace  of  God  through  Christ  Jesus."  The  other  is  to 
suppose  the  sentence  elliptical,  which,  if  supplied,  will 
read  thus  :  "  I  tlutnh  God,  tcho  delivers  me  through 
Christ  Jesus  my  Lord."  The  meaning  is  not  essentially 
different  in  either  case,  the  context  forming  a  joyous 
and  triumphant  answer  to  the  al  most  despairing  question 
of  the  last  verse. 

Now,  you  will  perceive  at  once  that  it  were  foreign  to 
the  spirit  of  the  connection  to  dw^ell  at  much  length 
upon  the  philosophy  of  a  salvation  by  grace  from  the 
bondage  of  sin.  We  say  in  passing,  that  God  by  the 
gift  of  His  Son  to  die  hath  freed  us  from  the  condemna- 
tion of  sin,  and  by  the  gift  of  the  Spirit,  itself  a  pur- 
chase of  Christ's  death.  He  hath  begun  and  will  carry 
on  unto  perfecting  the  work  of  our  freedom  from  all  the 
pollution  of  sin.  And  thence  forth  whosoever  by  faith 
becomes  interested  in  the  Mediator  is  brought  under  the 


THE  ONLY  DELIVERER.  22S 

influence  of  a  scheme  whose  present  tendency  and  whose 
perfected  results  shall  be  to  render  man  not  only  a  con- 
dition, but  in  character  at  perfect  freedom  from  the  law 
of  sin.  This,  however,  by  the  way.  For  it  is  not  so 
much  of  the  philosophy  of  the  progression  as  of  the 
certainty  of  the  perfecting  of  this  result  that  the  Apostle 
speaks.  In  other  connections  Paul  kindles  into  all  his 
raptures  over  the  modus  of  redemption.  He  tells  us 
how  the  Son  of  God  became  flesh,  laying  aside  the  bright 
and  blissful  majesties  of  heaven,  and  putting  on  human 
nature  as  the  instrumentality,  or  working-day  apparel ^ 
and  walkincr  forth  amid  the  busv  scenes  of  earthlv  life 
as  the  great  arena  where  the  dread  antagonism  was  to  go 
on,  dared  gloriously  the  fellness  of  the  whole  conflict, 
wrestling  not  only  with  death,  the  monster-child,  but  with 
sin,  the  monster-mother  ; .  that  God  cast  on  Him  the 
tremendous  burden  of  all  our  iniquities,  and  death  wrapt 
Him  in  his  icy  arms  and  bound  Him  in  the  strongholds 
of  his  dungeon ;  yet  that  in  the  might  of  the  within 
Grodhead  did  He  triumph  over  them  all,  bearing  a 
world's  sin,  yet  Himself  sinless,  and  tearing  away 
death's  sting  just  as  it  fixed  itself  w^ithin  His  bosom,  and 
leaping  forth  from  the  grave's  imprisonment  in  the 
power  of  high  victory,  and  ascending  up  on  high  to 
receive  gifts  for  the  redeemed,  and  thus  putting  into 
mighty  movement  a  great  scheme  whose  out  workings 
here  on  earth  are  the  justification  and  progressive  sancti- 
fication  of  those  who  believe.  This  is  the  burden  of 
Paul's  glorying  elsewhere.  But  in  our  text  it  is  in  vien 
of  another  aspect  of  the  great  truth  that  he  glories.  It 
is  of  the  hastening  consummation  of  the  w^ork,  not  of 
what  Christ  hath  done,  but  of  what  He  shall  do  when 


224  THE  ONLY  DELIVERER. 

with  the  struggling  soul  in  the  dark  hour  of  its  earthly 
dissolution  He  shall  come  in  tlie  might  of  a  conqueror, 
and  laying  an  omnipotent  finger  on  the  links  of  bond- 
age, loose  the  breathing  captiVe  from  the  corrupting 
burden,  freeing  us  thenceforth  and  forever  from  the 
body  of  this  death.  And  therefore  was  it,  that,  bur- 
dened and  borne  down  with  tlie  weight  of  inherent  cor- 
ruption, Paul  burst  forth  into  this  strong  language  of 
thanksgiving  and  joy.  He  lay  upon  the  battle  plain 
whereon  he  had  been  conquered,  and  this  body  of  death 
was  pressing  heavily  upon  him,  eye  to  eye  and  limb  to 
limb  and  lip  to  lip.  But  there  then,  even  then,  rose  in 
Iris  breaking  heart  the  immortal  assurance  of  ho])e ;  and 
with  a  thought  of  Christ  in  his  trophies  of  conquest, 
and  death  witli  its  releasing  agonies,  and  eternity  with 
its  higli  raptures  of  sinless  bliss,  he  leaped  upon  his  feet 
again  with  the  loud  outburst  of  victorious  and  exultant 
joy.  And  oh  !  avIio  wonders  ?  Dear  brother  in  Christ, 
hard,  very  hard,  is  it  to  bear  that  constant  warfare 
within  you  of  the  Jaw  of  your  members  with  the  law  of 
the  mind.  It  gives  unto  this  mortal  life  all  the  charac- 
ter of  a  soreness  and  a  suifering  and  a  barbarous  and 
bloody  conflict — that  •  struggle  of  the  renewed  spirit 
against  earth's  giant  lusts.  And  as  the  poor  captive  of 
the  fierce  despot,  bound  with  the  loathsome  body,  sick- 
ened of  his  very  life,  and  longed  and  prayed  and  wept 
in  agony  to  die,  so  to  a  Christian  on  earth  there  arc 
times  when  it  seems  unto  him  too  niueh  to  bear  tliis 
high  lasliing  of  the  immortal  spirit  against  the  corru])t- 
ing  flesh.  But  yet,  dear  blood-bought  spirit,  why  doubt, 
why  droc»p,  why  despond  you  ?  Behold  !  along  the 
battle-plain    whereon  sin    hath  bound   you    unto  that 


THE  ONLY  DELIVERER.  225 

terrific  burden,  behold  there  coraeth  a  deliverer,  mighty 
— monstrous,  men  call  him.  But  oh  !  though  mighty, 
not  monstrous,  for  his  name  is  Death.  And  soon,  very 
soon,  sooner  than  we  believe,  it  may  be  before  the 
autumnal  hues  vanish  from  the  forests,  for  he  comes 
with  vast  strides — that  conqueror  over  conquerors. 
Soon,  very  soon,  "svill  he  stand  beside  you,  and  his  skele- 
ton finger  will  loosen  the  bonds,  and  the  foul  body  drop 
awav  from  the  living  spirit,  and  ye  stand  up  in  God's 
glorious  world  redeemed,  regenerated,  disenthralled,  an 
eternal  freeman,  whom  Christ's  blood  makes  free. 

Oh  !  my  brother,  my  sister,  this  glorious  thought 
only,  even  amid  all  the  low  tendencies  of  earthly  affec- 
tions, maketh  me  sometimes,  in  the  strength  of  a  resist- 
less agony,  homesick  for  heaven.  It  is  not  for  the  living 
water ;  it  is  not  for  the  fruitage  of  the  tree  of  life ;  it 
is  not  for  the  breathing  of  the  cloudless  heavens  ;  it  is 
not  for  the  swell  of  the  angelic  harmonies  ;  it  is  not 
that  I  shall  wear  white  raiment  ;  it  is  not  that  I  shall 
dwell  in  noble  mansions  ;  it  is  not  that  I  shall  place  a 
crown  upon  my  brow  and  my  hand  wield  a  sceptre ;  it 
is  not  that  I  shall  sit  down  Avith  the  patriarchs ;  it  is  not 
that  I  shall  rejoice  in  the  fellowship  of  Apostles  ;  it  is 
not  that  God  shall  give  me  back  to  take  again  to  this 
bm-ning  and  breaking  heart  the  beloved  dead,  whose 
voices  breathe  no  more  around  me  in  this  sad  and 
stranger  air ;  yea,  and  because  without  that  other  spir- 
itual preparation  God's  brilliant  glories  would  burn  me 
into  ashes  ;  it  is  not  because  I  shall  see  Jesus  ;  it  is  not 
because  I  shall  bow  in  glorious  Avorship  at  the  throne  of 
God ;  not  for  these,  oh  !  not  for  these,  turneth  my 
livins:   heart    for    the   distant  murmur    of    the    dark 


226  THE  ONLY  DELIVERER. 

river  of  separation  to  break  at  times  upon  my  ear. 
But  above  all  of  it,  for  the  glory  of  that  nobler 
revelation  that  into  heaven  shall  enter  nothing  that 
defileth  or  worketh  abomination  or  maketh  a  lie. 
Oh  the  glorious  hope  of  a  perfected  sanctification,  the 
anticipation  so  full  of  the  beatitudes  of  heaven,  that 
noblest  of  all  the  anticipations  of  eternity,  that  I,  so 
poor,  so  lost,  so  loathsome,  that  it  seems  as  if  God  must 
look  on  me  with  abhorrence  and  that  angels  turn  in 
sickening^  from  my  threshold  ;  oh,  the  glorious  hope 
that  I,  even  I,  shall  be  made  meet  for  yon  bright  world, 
so  pure,  so  perfect,  so  spotless  in  every  impulse  of  ray 
nature  that  I  can  come  unblushingly  to  the  high  social 
circles  of  eternity,  yea,  come  boldly  and  cast  myself  on 
Jesus'  bosom,  and  repose  in  peace  ! 

Oh !  let  death  come  in  any  other  form,  and  I  might 
trembb,  though  he  loose  me  from  human  suffering, 
though  he  smoothe  a  pillow  for  the  aching  head,  though 
he  open  the  gates  of  an  immortal  world  to  a  thirsting 
spirit,  though  he,  give  me  back  in  living  beauty  the 
beloved  dead,  though  he  come  in  the  glorious  promise 
of  a  resurrection  unto  life,  this  corruptible  putting  on 
its  incorruptiou,  this  mortal  putting  on  its  immortality. 
And  yet  with  it  all  (for  there  is  something  wild  and 
awful  in  this  shaking  into  dust  this  clay  tabernacle),  I 
might  bid  him  from  my  threshold  and  long  to  live; 
but  let  him  come  as  a  purifyer,  a  bearer  of  white  gar- 
ments, a  pourer  of  bright  water  to  this  immortal  thirst, 
a  freer  of  this  living  spirit  from  the  corpse  of  sin ; 
then,  though  he  come  in  all  the  fearful  fierceness  of  his 
iron  nature,  will  I  clasp  him  to  my  bosom  with  the  joy 
of  heaven. 


THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE. 


"  Thy  Word  is  a  lamp  tinto  my  feet  and  a  light  unto  my  pathy 
Psalms  cxix.  105, 

In  the  history  of  every  great  enterprise  there  are  two 
periods  of  superlutive  and  absorbing  interest  to  the 
philosophic  observer.  These  two  points  are  the  com- 
mencement and  tlie  termination  of  tlie  enterprise.  To 
the  first  there  attaches  the  interest  of  philosophic  hope. 
To  the  second  the  interest  of  philosophic  reflection.  To 
the  one  we  bring  the  calculation  of  the  likelihoods  of  an 
untried  experiment.  To  the  other  we  bring  the  eye  of 
philosophic  consideration  of  the  secrets  of  that  success. 
In  respect  of  the  Sabbath-school  enterprise  we  may  be 
regarded  to-day  as  standing  in  the  latter  of  these  posi- 
tions. It  is  no  longer  an  untried  experiment.  We 
have  nothing  more  to  do  witli  considering  the  likeli- 
hood of  its  permanent  establishment.  It  has  succeeded. 
The  voice  of  the  whole  Church  is  at  one  in  the  testi- 
mony that  Sabbath-school  instruction  must  henceforth 
be  regarded  as  a  distinguished  means  of  grace.  The 
history  of  its  achievements  is  not  yet  fully  written ;  but 
to-day  is  it  in  the  full  tide  of  successful  experiment.  It 
is  pouring  rich  blessings  upon  man  in  all  the  positions 
and  relations  of  life ;  as  an  individual,  fitting  him  for 
usefulness  in  time  and  happiness  in  eternity  ;  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  social  system,  diffusing  peace  and  purity  over 
the  domestic  relationship  ;  as  a  member  of  great  national 
associations,  imparting  w^isdom  to  the  enactments  of  law 


228  THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE. 

and  vigor  unto  their  execution  ;  as  in  fellowship  with 
the  Church  catholic  and  universal,  developing  the  grand 
principle  of  pre-millenial  revivals,  by  bringing  the 
Gospel  in  its  purity  and  its  power  upon  the  softened 
heart  of  childhood. 

Many  years  ago,  on  an  occasion  like  the  present,  we 
should  have  felt  called  upon  to  advocate  Sabbath-schools. 
To-day  such  advocacy  were  impertinent.  The  demon- 
stration of  their  utility  is  found  in  the  records  of  their 
past  triumphs.  And  to-day  we  have  nothing  else  to  do 
than  to  reflect  with  what  calmness  we  may  upon  the 
secrets  of  that  success,  the  philosophy  of  those  tri- 
umphs. What  we  have  to  say,  then,  at  present  will  be 
in  answer  to  the  question  why  Sabbath-schools  are  prov- 
ing themselves  so  rich  a  blessing  to  the  race.  And  that 
answer,  we  think,  will  be  found  set  forth  just  in  this, 
that  they  bring  the  mind  of  our  youth  in  direct  and 
abundant  contact  with  the  Bible.  In  the  consideration 
of  this  thought  two  topics  of  remark  present  themselves 
before  us. 

Firsi.  The  excellencies  of  the  Bible  as  a  school- 
book. 

Second.  The  advantages  of  its  study  in  early  child- 
hood. 

In  considering  the  first  of  these  topics  the  most  won- 
derful thing  is,  that  with  regard  to  it  there  should  ever 
liave  arisen  a  question  in  the  observant  mind,  and  espec- 
ially that  the  first  agitation  of  such  a  question  should 
have  been  by  the  enlightened  philosophy  of  this  latter 
day.  Among  all  the  generations  of  our  race,  from  the 
very  farthest  period  of  antiquity,  hath  it  been  a  princi- 
ple of  education,  settled  and  sanctified,  that  the  princi- 


THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE.  229 

pies  of  the  dominant  religion  Avere  to  be  the  very  earli- 
est study  of  childhood.  The  sacred  books  of  all 
heathen  nations  have  been  most  carefully  laid  open  to 
the  young.  The  Koran  of  Mecca  has  been  ever  the  first 
study  of  the  Mohammedan.  The  popular  religion  of 
classic  heathendom  is  so  completely  interAvoven  with  the 
very  texture  of  its  popular  and  rich  literature,  that  by 
the  self-same  process  did  the  observant  youth  become  a 
student  and  a  I^agan.  Yea,  the  Hebrew  parent,  by  the 
express  command  of  heaven,  was  bound  so  to  indoctrin- 
ate his  child  in  the  Divine  oracles,  that  he  was  positive- 
ly certain  to  enter  active  life  a  Hebrew  in  faith  and  a 
Hebrew  even  in  prejudices.  The  history  of  the  early 
Church  is  full  of  the  operation  of  this  same  principle. 
The  history  of  early  heresies  from  the  2:)ure  faith  are 
histories  of  false  doctrine  impressed  upon  the  minds  of 
the  youthful.  The  successes  of  the  great  men  of  the 
Reformation  were  the  successes  of  men  educated  and 
acting  on  the  principle  that  the  Bible  is  the  best  of  all 
school-books  ;  and  if  the  time  ever  come  when  science 
will  at  best  be  but  a  curse,  and  education  a  mildew  on 
the  world's  intellect,  it  will  be  under  the  efforts  of  that 
foul  forth-putting  of  a  latter-day  scepticism  to  shut 
away  the  Book  of  God  from  the  schools  of  youth. 

Let  us  consider  very  cursorily — for  a  full  examination 
would  exhaust  volumes — very  rapidly  let  us  attend  to 
two  or  three  points  of  excellency  of  the  Bible  as  a 
school-book  for  the  young.  Xow,  on  such  a  point  we 
may  safely  declare  that  it  contains  the  only  complete 
system  of  education  in  the  world;  the  only  full  com- 
pend  of  discipline,  physical  and  mental  and  moral,  for 
time  and  eternity,  a  careful  attention  unto  whose  rules 


230  THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE. 

will  render  a  man  prepared  for  the  stern  duties  of  the 
world  and  meet  for  the  glories  of  immortality. 

•I.  Even  that  lowliest  interest  of  education,  the 
the  training  of  man^s  physical  nature,  is  cared  for  in  the 
Bible.  The  three  great  bodily  evils  which  beset  our 
youth,  the  three  grand  tendencies  to  be  guarded  against 
in  a  course  of  physical  culture,  are  in:ipurity,  intemper- 
ance, and  idleness ;  and  how  noble  in  its  warning  does 
the  Bible  speak  ont  on  them  all  !  Impurity  !  Oh  !  it  is 
almost  the  master-demon  of  them  all ;  and  under  the 
writliings  of  its  serpent  folds  thousands  of  the  bright 
and  gifted  are  strangled  forever.  And  yet  scarcely  do 
I  know  a  treatise  on  physical  culture  that  hath  dared  in 
its  wondrous  delicacy  to  whisper  a  word  of  warning 
but  the  Bible !  Oh !  how  it  speaks  out  in  thunder 
tones  !  At  the  entrance  of  every  pathway  that  leads 
downwards  to  its  foul  haunts  hath  it  fluno;  out  the 
banner  of  warning,  and  the  syllables  traced  in  lightning 
are  :  "  The  way  to  hell."  Intemperance !  For  how  many 
a  generation  hath  it  dug  the  grave  and  wrapped  the 
winding  sheet  of  the  bodies  and  souls  of  our  youth  of 
promise ;  yet  how  long  and  loud  and  ceaseless  did  the 
Bible  ring  out  its  alarm-cry  over  the  place  of  its  full 
ascendency.  Intemperance  of  any  kind  and  on  any 
occasion  meets  everywhere  its  witliering  anathema.  Sim- 
plicity and  moderation,  even  in  the  use  of  food,  is  en- 
joined by  precept  and  enforced  by  example  ;  arid  what- 
ever may  be  our  opinions  with  regard  to  the  intoxi- 
cating qualities  of  the  jnire  wines  of  Eiilestine,  but  a 
single  opinion  can  be  entertained  of  our  Bible-enjoined 
duty  with  regard  to  that  sparkling  death-draught  which, 
even  while  it  gives  out  its  red  color  in  the  cup,  "biteth 


THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE.  231 

like  a  serpent  and  stingeth  like  an  adder/'  And  not  a 
-doubt  can  be  harbored  of  the  regard  which  the  spirit  of 
inspiration  entertains  of  that  beautiful  seduction,  when 
its  denunciations  are  of  *''  woe  and  sorrow  and  conten- 
tions and  babblings  and  wounds  without  cause  unto 
him  that  under  the  beguilings  of  a  pampered  appetite 
sitteth  long  at  the  wine." 

Then,  too,  idleness — a  want  of  physical  exercise — is  a 
great  curse  of  all  modern  systems  of  education.  The 
process  of  culture  hath  been  confined  to  the  mind,  wuth 
a  complete  forgetfulness  of  the  requisite  exercise  of  the 
body,  so  that  at  length  it  hath  come  to  be  regarded  as  a 
vital  necessity  that  high  mental  power  should  be  disso- 
ciated from  high  physical  energy.  Scholarship  by  a 
dread  necessity  seems  predestined  to  be  valetudinarian  ; 
and  genius,  to  the  fullest  exercise  of  whose  high  powers 
great  physical  ability  is  indispensable,  seems  doomed,  by 
the  very  condition  of  its  culture,  to  a  system  of  dis- 
organized secretions  and  relaxed  muscles  and  shattered 
nerves.  And  thus  it  is  that  manual  labor,  so  funda- 
mental a  part  of  all  symmetrical  training,  in  its  seem- 
ing dissociation  from  the  height  of  mental  culture,  has 
come  to  be  considered  unfashionable.  Pretensions  to 
profound  scholarship  and  elevated  intellectual  discipline 
are  challenged  at  once  if  the  claimant  be  a  man  of  sturdy 
stature  and  well  compact  muscular  fibre.  Genius ! 
Oh  !  wliat  hath  it  to  do  with  the  implements  of  hardy 
and  honest  and  out-of-door  exercise  ?  Xay,  it  must  be 
a  creature  of  the  delicate  frame-work  and  the  unbronzed 
cheek  and  the  lily  fingCBS,  and  the  winds  of  heaven 
must  be  shut  away  from  the  effeminate  frame-work, 


232  THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE. 

and  it  be  handled  softly,  like  an  exhibition  doll  in  the 
show-box  of  a  milliner. 

Now,  the  Bible^s  theory  of  hnman  culture  is  at  war 
with  all  this  false  and  factitious  opinion.  It  demands 
vigorous  and  continuous  bodily  labor.  It  leads  the 
young  scholar  to  the  sheep-folds  of  Moses  and  the  car- 
penter-toil of  Jesus  and  the  assiduous  toil  of  Paul  amid 
"fhe  tent-makers  of  Corinth;  and  understanding,  as  it 
does,  how  a  vigorous  body  is  indispensable  to  the  highest 
ciForts  of  a  vigorous  intellect,  and  how,  like  heavy  ordi- 
nance, such  an  intellect  will  recoil  on  its  mounting  and 
sliatter  a  puny  frame- work,  its  very  first  business  is  to 
furnish  forth  unto  the  conflict  the  mind  with  a  staunch 
equipment  of  compact  tone  and  elastic  muscle  and 
healthful  and  hardy  nervous  economy. 

II.  But  in  its  attention  to  the  higher  departments 
of  education  how  complete  and  incomparable  is  the 
Bible.  Volumes  might  be  exhausted  in  illustrating  this 
point.  We  may  declare  in  geneial,  that  no  mental 
faculty  is  left  unprovided  for  in  the  Bible,  considered  as 
a  school-book.  Unlike  all  other  compends  of  intellec- 
tual discipline,  it  does  not  take  care  of  one  species  of 
faculties  to  the  neglect  of  others.  Its  design  and  prac- 
tical effect  is  to  furnish  forth  the  man  with  a  symmetri- 
cal and  justly  balanced  and  impartial  development  of  all 
the  mental  powers ;  and  yet  its  tendency  is  to  develop 
and  discipline  every  one  of  these  powers  to  their  very 
highest  perfection.  Would  you  impart  to  a  child  in  the 
briefest  possible  compass  the  most  important  lessons  of 
every-day  wisdom  and  strong,  «ound  common-sense,  let 
him  study  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon.  Would  you  in 
the  shortest  period  of  pupilag,e  render  a  child  clear- 


THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE.  23S 

sighted  in  his  understanding  of  the  very  philosophy  of 
law  and  the  most  subtle  elements  of  practical  jurispru- 
dence, sit  him  down  unto  a  careful  study  of  the  moral 
and  political  code  of  the  Hebrews  as  embodied  in  the 
pages  of  the  Pentateuch.  Would  you  open  unto  a 
child's  thought  the  very  secrets  of  the  wire-working  of 
human  nature  as  set  forth  in  the  records  of  human  his- 
tory ?  Why,  in  the  Bible  you  place  before  his  mind  the 
safest,  yea,  the  only  compend  of  our  world's  annals- 
through  the  largest,  the  longest,  the  most  wonderful  and 
sublime  period  of  its  continuance.  Would  you  disci- 
pline into  the  very  loftiest  strength  the  highest  faculties 
of  the  intellect  ?  Then  sit  your  child  down  to  pon- 
der the  majestic  and  overpowering  truths  of  the  Bible — 
the  immortality  of  the  human  spirit,  the  might  and  the 
ministrations  of  the  loftier  ranks  and  orders  of  created 
intelligence,  the  effects  of  unlimited  progression  in 
wisdom  and  power  upon  the  march  and  the  majesty  of 
the  mental  faculties,  the  being  and  the  duration  and  the 
unspeakable  glories  of  a  great  God,  whose  dwelling- 
place  is  immensity  and  whose  life-time  eternity,  and 
omnipotence  is  wdiose  power,  and  omnipresence  is  the 
boundary  of  whose  pervading  essence.  Would  you 
refine  into  softest  and  truest  sensibility  the  more  delicate 
faculties  of  imagination  and  senses  and  taste,  then  sit 
the  child  down  to  ponder  the  high  specimens  of  eloquence 
and  poetry  and  inimitable,  uncolored  painting  which ^ 
like  stars  in  the  breadth  of  heaven,  are  found  every- 
wdiere  within  the  pages  of  this  Book  of  Life.  Why, 
the  great  masters  of  the  drama  have  borrowed  character 
and  inspiration  from  its  burning  pages,  and  the  immor- 
tal  lords  of   the  pencil   have  arrayed    the  canvass  in 


234  THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE. 

greatest  glory  on  Scriptuml  subjects.  And  where  hath 
poetry  ever  kindled  so  majestically  as  from  Isaiah's 
liarp  ?  And  where  hath  eloquence  so  poured  forth  unto 
the  full  her  might  and  her  mastery  as  when  GamalieFs 
Disciple  plead  for  Christ  in  bonds  ?  Oh  !  on  such 
themes  time  would  fail  us.  The  Bible  may  be  termed 
'emphatically  the  great  text-book  of  the  human  intel- 
lect. It  hath  been  alike  w^ritten  and  studied  by  the 
greatest  of  all  the  world's  poets  and  philosophers  and 
moralists  and  conquerors.  And  the  teacher  who  would 
ilevelop  into  fullest  proportion,  and  discipline  into 
mightiest  perfection  the  faculties  of  man's  intellectual 
nature,  w^ill  give  him  tlie  Bible  to  refine  his  taste  and 
the  Bible  to  strengthen  his  understanding. 

III.  Not  this  alone.  Not  more  with  the  menial 
than  the  moral  culture  of  our  race  does  this  text-book 
c'oncern  itself.  Herein  is  the  great  oversight  of  all 
other  compends  of  systematic  education.  To  omit  in 
the  treatment  of  the  young  all  moral  culture  is,  even  in 
respect  of  ,time,  to  train  but  partially  and  imperfectly. 
In  the  economy  of  the  human  spirit  the  rudest  under- 
standing perceives  two  essentially  distinct  classes  of 
emotion,  which  we  term  the  intellectual  and  the  moral 
emotions.  And  had  Ave  time,  it  might,  we  think,  be 
shown  clearly  that  to  the  latter  class  pertains  the  higher 
relative  fmportance,  and  that  as  an  instantaneous  deci- 
.sion  of  the  judgment  a  greater  estimation  is  put  upon 
qualities  denoted  by  the  terms  good,  generous,  pure, 
peaceable,  then  upon  those  which  w^e  designate  as  beau- 
tiful, graceful,  sublime,  magnificent.  We  think  that, 
even  in  respect  of  time,  it  might  be  shovm  that  the 
moral  faculties  carry  it  very  greatly  over  the  intellectual. 


THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE.  235 

But  let  their  work  of  relative  importance  be  what  it 
may/ a  system  of  education  neglectful  of  their  cultiva- 
tion is,  of  course,  a  partial  system,  as  if  the  body  were 
to  be  exercised  and  the  mind  neglected,  or  the  mind 
disciplined  and  the  body  wasted  in  inactivity.  Con- 
fessedly, education  is  not  perfect  if  it  reach  not  the 
moral  capacities  ;  and  yet  it  is  a  truth  undeniable,  yea, 
undenied,  that  if  you  deliver  the  minds  of  our  children 
from  the  study  of  the  Bible,  you  do  by  that  very  act 
leave  forever  destitute  of  all  adequate  culture  an  im- 
portant, if  not  the  important  department  of  their  nature. 

IV.  And  this  leads  me  to  the  last  thought  in  this 
connection,  which  is,  that  the  Bible  as  a  text-book 
educates  not  merely  for  time,  but  for  eternity.  Herein 
is  a  fundamental  error  in  all  other  systems  of  human 
culture.  They  seek  to  fit  man  to  act  well  his  part  in 
this  infancy  of  being,  and  leave  him  all  ignorant  and 
unequipped  for  the  high  plans  and  purposes  of  the 
majestic  maturity  that  towers  beyond  the  grave.  The 
end  of  their  physical  culture  is  to  fit  the  body  to  move 
well  and  wisely  along  the  low  thoroughfare  of  life,  and 
never  to  waste  a  thought  on  the  race-running  for  the 
high  awards  of  eternity. 

Their  mental  discipline  only  contemplates  the  low 
wants  and  the  petty  anxieties  and  the  groveling  pursuits 
and  a  meetness  for  the  paltry  interests  of  this  little 
world,  and  prepares  for  no  duty  and  sits  in  Jugdment 
on  no  interest  of  the  majestic  immortality  that  is  to 
come. 

But  the  Bible.  Oh  !  it  looks  upon  the  wants  of  man  as 
an  immortal.  It  would  train  the  body  into  stature  and 
strength,  not  that  it  may  walk  in   beauty  and  majesty 


236  THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE. 

this  busy  world,  but  as  that  which,  starting  at  the  resur- 
rection from  the  low  grave,  shall  go  forth  in  a  walk  of 
progressive  glory  along  all  the  crowned  heights  of 
eternity.  The  soul.  In  all  its  complex  character  of 
the  intellectual  and  moral  emotions,  it  would  subject  it 
to  the  appliances  of  a  careful  culture,  not  that  it  may 
wisely  grapple  wdth  the  mysteries  of  earthly  science,  but 
as  an  immortal  and  enduring  spirit,  that  shall  not  be 
hurt  of  the  death-bed  agonies,  but,  starting  away  from 
the  throes  of  a  convulsed  frame-work,  shall  plume  its 
flight  on  the  dark  waters,  and  on  yon  far-away  shores 
of  glory  be  gathered  to  the  high  fellowship  of  the  blest, 
going  forth  unto  their  triumphs  and  their  toils  with 
capacities  as  vast  and  energies  as  uuabating.  And  there- 
fore, and  for  this,  we  tell  you  that  the  Bible  is  the  great 
text  Book  of  our  race,  the  great  school  Book  of  an 
infancy  of  immortality,  and  declare  that  if  you  debar 
the  human  mind  from  its  grand  lessons  you  leave  it  in 
all  ignorance  of  the  very  alphabet  of  science,  stranded 
on  the  great  shoals  of  eternity.  Other  systems  may 
train  the  body  for  earthly  toil.  The  Bible  trains  it  also 
to  wear  becomingly  the  raiment  of  immortal  triumph. 
Other  discipline  may  strengthen  the  soul  for  the  waste 
and  weariness  of  temporal  calculation,  and  embue  it  with 
the  spirit  of  short-sighted  and  temporal  wisdom,  but 
the  Bible  alone,  in  its  at-once  revelation  of  heaven's 
glories  and  its  miraculous  preparations  for  heaven's  glad- 
ness, fitteth  the  soul  to  act  well  its  part  on  that  high 
theatre  of  being  incomprehensible  and  eternal  and 
beyond  the  skies. 

Now,  we  have  dwelt  at  sucli  unexpected  length  on 
this  thought,  that  it  is  l)ut  the  very  briefest  considera- 


THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE.  237 

tion  we  can  give  to  the  second  proposed  topic  of  remark, 
namely,  the  advantages  of  the  study  of  the  Bible  in 
early  childhood.  Here,  perhaps,  is  the  grand  secret  of 
Sabbath-school  success.  It  impresses  revealed  truth 
upon  the  mind  in  its  earliest  stage  of  comprehension. 
And  on  the  advantages  of  such  a  practice  why  need  we 
enlarge?  No  more  philosophic  is  it  to  believe  that 
spring-time  is  emphatically  the  seed-time  in  the  material 
world  than  that  childhood  is  the  seed-time  in  the 
spiritual  world.  In  the  w^isdom  of  all  past  time  hath  it 
been  thought  philosophically  necessar\^  to  instruct 
children  in  religious  tenets  as  the  very  basis  of  all  other 
knowledge,  and  every  heathen  tribe  that  hath  advanced 
to  the  j)ossession  of  a  written  religion  and  places  of 
childish  training  has  appointed  its  national  religion  a 
fundamental  study  of  its  children.  And  all  this  has 
originated  in  a  profound  insight  into  the  great  elements 
of  permanent  impression.  Who  does  not  know  that 
earliest  im-pressions  are  the  strongest  ?  That  the  associa- 
tions of  thought  formed  in  childhood  ai'e  the  most 
enduring?  That  the  literature,  whether  secular  or 
sacred,  whose  alphabet  is  only  mastered  in  maturity,  is 
never  pursued  with  the  assiduous  and  intense  ardor  of  a 
passion  ?  That  the  grand  secret  of  that  deep  love  and 
that  untiring  enthusiasm,  with  which,  even  under  the 
chilling  influences  of  Paganism,  the  devotee  yields  him- 
self unto  a  religious  ritualism,  is  found  in  the  assiduous 
care  wherewith  the  earliest  associations  were  linked  unto 
its  temple  service  ?  And  who,  above  all,  t^iils  to  per- 
ceive how  wisely  in  Sabbath-school  instruction  we  lay 
hold  of  this  beautiful  principle  to  bring  the  young  heart 
in  its  freshness  to  the  Saviour's  feet  ?     By  the  spell  of 


238  THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE. 

earliest  association  we  fasten  n})on  the  young  spirit  a 
love  of  the  literature  of  heaven ;  we  open  the  young 
ear  unto  the  melody  of  angels ;  we  unveil  unto  the 
young  eye  the  magnificence  of  the  destiny  of  the 
redeemed  spirit;  we  set  the  young  soul  unto  the  pon- 
dering into  a  familiarity  with  those  dazzling  truths  of 
eternity  in  that  most  sublime  of  all  their  modifications 
and  aspects — tlie  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  ;  we  apply  our- 
selves unto  the  culture  in  the  youthful  spirit  of  that 
boundless  ambition  which  will  satisfy  itself  with  nothing 
less  than  the  hio-h  awards  of  a  radiant  immortalitv;  and 
thus  in  the  use  of  a  power  which  in  all  past  time  hath 
been  perverted  unto  the  w^orst  of  purposes,  we  fling 
around  the  realities  of  the  unseen  world  the  charm  of 
an  early  acquaintanceship,  and  array  the  very  mansions 
of  the  blest  in  the  beautiful  features  of  the  soul's  first 
dwelling-place,  and  link  the  deepest  affections  of  the 
heart  unto  the  living  God  as  in  fetters  of  iron  and  of 
adamant,  by  tlie  strong  impressions  and  thrilling  remem- 
brances and  deathless  associations  of  a  child's  beautiful 
and  reposing  love. 

Herein,  as  far  as  our  limits  allow,  have  we  striven  to 
set  forth  the  secret  of  Sabbath-school  success ;  and  we 
may  not  detain  you  longer  than  to  offer  the  very  brief- 
est w^ord  of  exhortation  to  the  two  classes  of  persons 
specially  interested  in  the  exercises  of  this  afternoon. 

1.  The  first  is  to  the  Sabbath-school  teacher ;  and  to 
you,  dear  hearers,  as  the  whole  subject,  setting  forth,  as 
it  does,  the  probabilities  of  success,  hath  been  of  en- 
couragement, our  exhortation  shall  be  of  warning.  Your 
business  is  to  impress  Bible  truths  on  the  immortal 
young  heart,  to  open  the  truths  of  this  blessed  volume 


THE  LAMP  OF  LIFE. 

to  the  thought  of  childhood.  And  in  the  beautiful 
metaphor  of  the  text  wherein  the  Bible  is  denommated 
'^  a  lamp  unto  the  feet  and  a  light  unto  the  path/'  most 
strikingly  is  there  set  forth  before  you  the  measure  of 
your  responsibility.  Ponder  for  a  moment  the  figura- 
tive language.  These  children  are  represented  as  chil- 
dren' lost  in  a  wilderness  ;  and  all  before  are  dangerous 
precipices,  and  all  around  a  night  of  storms.  And  you 
with  the  Bible,  this  light  of  eternity,  this  lamp  of 
heaven,  are  represented  as  commissioned  to  go  forth  and 
seek  them  in  that  dai-k  wilderness,  and  pouring  the 
Divine  radiance  on  the  safe  pathway  to  guide  them 
home.  Oh  !  look  well,  then,  unto  your  guidance.  Have 
vou  never  read  of  the  fatuous  and  false  lio-hts  that  flit 
sometimes  in  the  dark  night  through  the  wilderness, 
whereon  the  poor  traveler,  bethinking  him  of  his  house- 
hold lamp  in  his  sweet  home,  fastens  his  eye  and  hurries 
on  rejoicingly,  and  by  and  by  plunges  from  the  preci- 
pice, and  is  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  rocks  beneath?  Oh, 
beware !  beware !  The  wreckers  that  along  the  dan- 
gerous coast  kindle  signals  and  false  fires  to  tempt 
vessels  unto  the  shipwreck  we  call  murderers.  Look 
well  to  it,  that  in  the  great  day  of  reckoning,  through 
your  unfaithfulness  to  these  little  ones,  the  skirts  of  your 
garments  be  not  red  with  blood. 

2.  My  other  word  of  exhortation  is  to  these  dear 
children  of  the  Sabbath-school.  You  are  lifted  to 
heaven  in  point  of  privilege.  Be  careful ;  oh  !  be  care- 
ful that  it  be  not  from  that  height  of  glory  to  be  cast 
down  to  hell.  This  dear  Bible,  it  can  make  you  rise 
unto  salvation.  It  can  teach  you  the  song  of  angels 
and  the  great  school  lessons  of  eternity,  and  point  you 


240  777^  LAMP  OF  LIFE, 

the  way  unto  the  immortal  mansions,  and  make  you  meet 
for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light.  Beware  ;  oh! 
beware  lest  in  your  neglect  and  disobedience  of  its 
precious  instructions  it  may  prove  unto  you  ^^  a  savor 
of  death  unto  death."  Oh,  how  dreadful  will  be  the 
doom  of  impenitent  Sabbatli -school  children!  How- 
awful  the  eternity  of  a  child  whose  condemnation  it  was, 
that  light  came  into  the  world,  and  he  loved  darkness 
rather  than  light  ! 

Dear  children,  I  liave  read  somewhere  the  account  a 
fjjreat  traveler  gives  us  of  a  light-house  reared  by  kindly 
hands  far  out  on  a  rocky  promontory,  around  which, 
when  the  storm  is  abroad,  the  waters  murmur  with  a 
wrathful  and  a  bitter  cry,  and  flocks  of  sea-birds,  driven 
by  the  tempests  from  their  craggy  nests,  rush  madly 
toward  that  beauteous  light,  and  dash  upon  the  mighty 
rocks,  and  are  cast  up  dead  along  the  shore.  And  oh  ! 
there  is  such  a  light  kindled  on  the  rocky  shore  of  time, 
and  tliere  are  such  eyes  dazzled  by  its  beauty  in  this 
night  of  storms,  and  there  are  sucli  dead  things  cast  up 
forever  bv  the  heavinir  billows  of  eternity. 


A  ROYAL  HIGHWAY. 


*'And  a  highway  shall  be  there,  and  a  way,  and  it  shall  be  called 
the  -way  of  holiness.  The  unclean  shall  not  pass  over  it ;  but  it  shall 
be  for  those — the  ivayfaring  men,  though  fools,  shall  not  err  therein. 
No  lion  shall  be  there,  nor  any  ravenous  beast  shall  go  up  thereon  ;  it 
shall  not  be  found  there  ;  but  the  redee?fied  shall  walk  there.  And  the 
ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return  and  come  to  Zion  with  songs  and 
everlasting  joy  tipott  their  heads  ;  they  shall  obtain  joy  and  gladness, 
and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  flee  away  .''^ — ISAIAH  XXXV.  8,  lo. 

Dear  children,  at  the  request  of  your  beloved  super- 
intendent I  am  going  to  preach  to  you  this  morning. 
If  you  sit  still  and  listen,  I  will  not  preach  a  long  ser- 
mon, and  will  strive  to  so  speak  that  you  can  remember 
what  I  say  and  tell  your  father  or  mother  something 
about  it  when  you  go  home. 

The  text  I  have  taken  speaks  about  a  highway  to 
heaven.  Last  Sabbath  morning  I  preached  to  your 
parents  and  teachers  about  striving  to  lead  you  in  the 
Divine  way  to  heaven ;  and  now  I  am  going  to  talk  to 
you  about  that  way,  and  urge  you  to  walk  in  it. 

Now,  you  all  know  what  we  mean  by  walking  toward 
heaven.  We  mean  being  Christians;  for  every  Chris- 
tian is  going  to  heaven.  I  suppose  some  of  you  think 
it  is  a  gloomy  thing  to  be  a  Christian.  I  remember 
when  I  was  a  little  boy  an  old  gentleman  used  to  come 
to  our  house  with  a  black  coat  and  a  long  face,  and  he 
looked  so  sorrowful  and  spoke  so  sadly  that  we  were  all 
glad  when  he  went  away ;  and  when  they  told  me  he 
was  a  Christian  and  was  going  to  heaven,  I  thouglit,  It 


242  A  ROYAL  HIGHWAY. 

is  not  good  to  be  a  Christian,  and  the  way  to  heaven  can 
not  be  pleasant.  Perhaps  some  of  you  feel  so.  But  my 
text  was  written  by  God  just  to  show  you  how  good  a 
thing  it  is  to  be  a  Christian,  and  what  a  pleasant  way  is 
the  way  to  heaven. 

NoAv,  you  all  know  what  makes  a  road  pleasant.  If 
you  were  going  to  begin  a  journey  into  the  country 
to-morrow,  you  would  want  several  things  to  be  sure 
about  the  road  you  were  to  travel,  and  I  desire  to  show 
you  how  the  text  says  every  one  of  these  things  is  true 
about  this  road  to  heaven.     And, 

Fird.  If  you  were  going  on  a  journey,  you  would 
want  a  w^ell-made  road,  or  wliat  we  call  a  good  road. 
When  your  parents  crossed  the  isthmus  years  ago,  they 
rode  on  mules,  and  there  were  no  good  roads  ;  and  in 
going  down  mountains  they  fell  down ;  and  in  fording 
rivers  they  fell  in  ;  and  the  poor  travelers  got  to  Pan- 
ama with  their  clothes  all  torn  and  muddy  and  wet. 
And  it  was  a  hard  road  to  travel.  But  now  men  have 
built  a'  great  railroad  there,  and  you  can  sit  in  a  nice 
car  and  see  beautiful  trees  and  flowers,  and  there  is  no 
danger  of  falling  down  mountains  or  getting  into  Avater. 
And  so  Ave  say  it  is  a  pleasant  Avay  because  the  way  is 
good. 

And  this  is  just  what  our  text  says  about  the  Avay  to 
heaven.  It  calls  it  a  highAvay,  a  Avay  that  God  has  made 
for  little  children  to  Avalk  in.  Christ  Jesus  came  into 
the  Avorld  to  save  little  children.  And  He  says.  If  you 
repent  of  your  sins,  and  love  and  trust  Jesus,  and  strive 
to  be  good  children,  you  shall  all  go  to  heaven  when 
you  die.  To  be  a  Christian  is,  therefore,  just  to  walk  in 
this   good  Avay  God  has  made.     And  so  we  call  it  a 


A  ROYAL  HIGHWAY.  243 

pleasaut  journey,  because  it  is  along  a  well-made  way, 
L  e.y  a  highway. 

But,  then,  all  highways  are  Jiot  pleasant.  I  went  up 
to  Lake  Biglar  last  summer,  and  there  y/as  as  fine  a  road 
over  the  mountains  as  ever  I  saAV.  The  stones  were  all 
taken  away,  and  the  groimd  was  made  smooth  and  hard, 
and  the  horses  galloped  away,  drawing  the  coach  swiftly 
and  easily.  It  was  truly  a  good  road,  and  yet  it  was  not 
a  pleasant  one,  because  it  was  cut  right  along  preci- 
pices, and  sometimes  the  wheels  Avent  Avithin  two  inches 
of  the  edge  of  abysses  a  thousand  feet  deep ;  and  so  Ave 
were  all  afraid  of  falling  oif.  And  some  of  the  Avomen 
in  the  coach  were  ahvays  crying  out,  "  Oh  !  Ave  shall  be 
dashed  in  pieces  ;"  and  some  of  the  men  were  as  much 
scared  as  the  Avomen,  and  some  children  made  as  much 
noise  as  if  their  necks  Avere  surely  to  be  broken.  It  Avas  a 
A^ery  Avell  built  higliAA^ay,  but  it  Avas  not  pleasant.  And 
Avhat  Avas  quite  as  bad,  they  told  us  that  sometimes  the 
monstrous  grizzly  bears  Avere  found  in  the  mountain, 
strong  enough  to  carry  away  the  horses  and  tear  all  the 
traA^elers  to  pieces.  And  so  what  Avith  the  precipices 
and  the  bears  Ave  can  not  say  A^ery  much  in  favor  of  the 
highway  to  AYashoe. 

NoAA',  all  this  shoAvs  you  that  to  make  a  road  pleasant 
it  must  be  not  only  first  a  good  road,  but. 

Secondly^  It  must  be  a  safe  ^AW.  And  this  is  just 
what  my  text  says  about  the  Christian's  Avay  to  heaven. 
"  It  is  a  safe  Avay.''  So  Avell  guarded  from  precipices  is 
it,  that  "  tJie  wayfaring  tiieUy  though  fools,  shall  not  err/^ 
or  fiill  aAvay  from  it;  and  ^'no  lion  f<hall  be  there,  nor 
any  ravenous  beast  go  up  therein  ;  it  shall  not  be  found 
there.'' 


244  A   JWYAL  HIGHWAY. 

When  a  child  becomes  a  Christian — giving;  his  lieart 
to  God,  and  loving  and  serving  Him — then  God  declares 
that  He  will  send  angels  to  guard  them  from  all  danger, 
and  that  He  Himself  will  be  always  by  their  side  to 
guide  and  protect  them.  And  though  Satan,  like  a 
roaring  lion,  tempts  and  destroys  wicked  children,  yet 
Christ,  the  blessed  Saviour,  who  is  stronger  than  Satan, 
has  promised  to  bear  the  good  little  children  as  a  shep- 
herd bears  the  land)  safely  along  the  precipices  and 
away  from  the  roaring  lions.  And  therefore,  we  say, 
the  way  to  heaven  is  a  pleasant  way  because  it  is  safe. 

But,  then,  a  road  may  be  both  a  highway  and  a  safe 
way,  and  yet  not  a  pleasant  way.  One  of  the  safest 
journeys  I  ever  took  was  in  a  stage  coach  through  a  part 
of  an  Eastern  State.  It  was  over  a  great  plain  of  sand, 
the  road  so  heavy  that  the  horses  could  not  run  away 
with  us,  and  so  perfectly  level  that  the  coach  could  not  be 
turned  over,  and  the  region  so  barren  that  no  wild  beast 
could  have  been  persuaded  to  live  there.  But  when  we 
looked  out  along  the  road  side  we  could  see  nothing- 
beautiful,  no  green  fields,  no  waving  trees,  no  bright 
brooks,  no  beautiful  dwellings.  But  it  was  all  a  hot, 
desolate,  miserable  sand  plain,  make  the  best  of  it.  And 
of  all  the  many  people  who  have  traveled  that  road,  I 
never  heard  one  speak  well  of  it. 

Now,  all  this  shows  that  beside  being  high  and  safe, 
if  a  way  be  pleasant,  it  must, 

Thirdly,  lie  through  a  pleasant  country.  And  this  is 
what  makes  a  Christian's  way  pleasant.  I  know  that 
Christians  talk  about  earth  being  a  wilderness  ;  and  the 
road  of  which  this  Prophet  was  speaking  was  built  in 
the  great  desert  between  Babylon  and  Judea.     But  if 


A  ROYAL  HIGHWAY.  245 

you  turn  back  a  few  verses  in  tlie  chapter,  3^ou  find  the 
Prophet  declares  that,  when  crossed  by  these  travelers  to 
Zion,  the  wilderness  and  the  solitary  place  should  be 
glad,  a:id  tlie  desert  bud  and  blossom  as  the  ro.'C.  And 
-•ccordingly  the  Bible  calls  wisdom's  ways,  or  the  road 
to  heaven,  "  ways  of  pleasantness,"  i,  e.,  ways  pleasant 
In  themselves  and  their  prospects  ;  for  sweet  streams  of 
iieavcnly  grace  murmur  by  the  wayside,  and  mountains 
of  heavenly  glory  rise  above  the  horizon.  And  no 
little  child  ever  gave  its  heart  to  God,  and  loved  and 
obeyed  Him,  that  did  not  find  God's  Word  true,  that 
wisdom's  ways  were  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  ail  her 
paths  peace. 

Fourth.  Meanwhile,  something  more  than  all  this  is 
necessary  to  make  a  journey-  pleasant.  One  of  the  most 
disagreeable  rides  I  ever  took  was  along  a  good  road, 
and  safe,  through  a  delightful  country.  But  what  made 
it  so  unpleasant  ^vas  the  company  that  traveled  with  us. 
At  one  of  the  stopping-places  about  fifty  men  came 
aboard,  who  had  been  to  a  prize  fight,  and  as  you  will 
suppose,  they  were  most  of  them  not  very  agreeable 
companions.  Some  of  tliem  were  drunken,  and  some 
smoking,  and  some  swearing,  and  presently  some  of 
them  got  into  a  fight  among  themselves,  and  though  the 
cars  were  new  and  nice,  and  the  road  lay  amid  almost 
matchless  scenery,  green  meadows  and  grand  old  forests 
and  a  noble  river  at  the  side,  and  glorious  mountains 
beyond  them,  yet  with  a  crowd  of  dirty,  drunken  and 
profane  and  quarreling  men  tiie  ride  itself  was  most 
painful. 

And  all  this  sliows  that  to  make  any  road  pleasant 
you   must  have  an  agreeable  company.      If  }'ou  were 


246  A  ROYAL  HIGHWAY. 

going  picnicing  you  \vould  say,  ^'  I  want  papa  and 
mamma  to  go,  and  little  brother  and  sister,  and  my  teacher, 
if  he  be  pleasant,  and  Mary,  because  she  is  always  so 
good-natured,  and  Harry,  because  he  loves  to  play  with 
me.  But  I  do  not  want  Mr.  Smith  to  go,  because  he  is 
so  cross;  nor  Mrs.  Jones,  for  she  is  always  scolding; 
nor  William,  for  he  is  always  teasing  me  ;  nor  Susan, 
who  will  never  let  me  have  what  I  want.  If  I  can  not 
have  pleasant  company  I  would  rather  stay  at  home.'' 

Now  this,  dear  children,  is  just  what  makes  the  road 
to  heaven  so  pleasant.  ]\Iy  text  says  not  only  that  no 
Hon  or  ravenous  beast  shall  be  there,  but  that  the 
unclean,  ?'.  c,  all  wicked  persons,  shall  not  pass  over  it. 

AValking  in  the  pleasant  road  to  heaven,  you  never 
find  robbers  or  murderers  or  thieves  or  drunken  men. 
IVo  boy  who  swears,  and  no  girl  who  tells  lies,  and  no 
children  that  quarrel  and  strike  and  fling  stones,  no  such 
persons  are  w^alking  the  heavenly  road.  But  as  the  text 
says,  '^  tlie  redeemed  shall  icalh  iliere^^  i.  e.,  God's  people, 
who  love  God  and  do  good  to  men,  good  children,  who 
try  to  make  each  other  happy,  and  are  kind  and  gentle 
like  the  blessed  Saviour ;  aye,  and  better  still,  though 
we  can  not  see  their  faces  nor  hear  their  voices,  yet  God 
tells  us  the  shining  angels  walk  by  our  side  on  the  way 
to  heaven.  And  sui-e  we  ai-e  God  walks  with  us — our 
great  Heavenly  Father — leading  us  by  the  hand,  that 
^ve  fall  into  no  danger ;  watching  us  ever,  that  we  want 
no  good  thing.         ^ 

To  be  a  Christian  is,  therefore,  to  walk  in  the  best 
company  and  have  the  most  agreeable  companions,  and 
therefore  we  say  the  road  to  heaven  is  pleasant. 

Fifth.    But  h,eslde  all  this  there  is  yet  one  other  thing 


A  ROYAL  HIGHWAY.  247 

necessary  to  make  a  way  pleasant.  I  remember  to  have 
ridden  once  over  a  most  charming  road  on  a  sweet  sum- 
mer day,  when  the  air  was  all  full  of  the  fragrance  of 
roses  and  violets  and  blossoming  trees.  Bright  little 
brooks  of  water  were  sparkling  amid  the  meadows,  and 
wild  birds  singing  in  all  the  trees  ;  and  yet  along  that 
beautiful  road  we  went  sorrowful  and  weeping,  because 
we  were  going  to  a  funeral,  to  the  grave  of  a  dead  rela- 
tive and  friend.  And  this  shows  you  that  to  make  a 
road  pleasant  it  must, 

Fifthhj,  have  a  pleasant  end,  /.  e.,  you  must  be  pass- 
ing over  it  to  something  you  want  to  see  very  much  or 
love  very  much — a  splendid  city  or  beautiful  garden  or 
happy  home.  And  this,  my  dear  children,  is  what, 
most  of  all,  makes  the  text's  way  of  holiness  so  un- 
^:peakably  pleasant.  The  text  says,  "  The  ransomed  of 
the  Lord  shall  return  and  come  to  Zion^  Zion,  you 
know,  was  the  name  of  the  highest  hill  in  Jerusalem, 
from  w^hich,  at  length,  the  whole  city  was  called  Zion. 
As  applied  to  the  JcAvish  captives,  it  meant  that  the 
highway  through  the  desert  was  delightful,  because  over 
it  they  were  returning  to  their  beloved  homes  in  that 
splendid  city — Jerusalem,  But  as  applied  to  ourselves, 
Zion  means  the  Heavenly  Jerusalem.  And  so  the  text 
tells  us  that  it  is  a  happy  thing  to  be  a  Christian,  because 
a  Christian  is  going  to  heaven. 

Now,  you  all  know  where  the  impenitent  and  ungod- 
Iv  2:0  ;  for  God  tells  us  thev  shall  have  their  eternal 
abode  in  that  dreadful  place  prepared  for  the  devil  and 
his  angels.  And  no  matter  how  charming  the  road  is, 
it  can  not  be  pleasant  to  go  over  it.  But  the  Christian 
is  going  to  heaven.      And  oh,  what  a  glorious  place 


248  A  ROYAL  HIGHWAY. 

heaven  is  !  A  city  that  shines  Hke  the  sun,  whose  outer- 
walls  are  built  of  brilliant  stones,  such  as  rubies  and 
sapphires ;  whose  gates  are  each  a  great  and  precious 
l^earl ;  whose  houses  are  all  palaces  built  of  pure  gold, 
through  which  flows  a  beautiful  river  of  the  water  of 
life,  clear  as  crystal,  Avith  its  banks  shaded  by  trees  of 
life,  which  bear  twelve  kinds  of  fruit,  and  have  ripe 
fruit  every  month,  Avhere  Jesus  dwells,  and  the  shining 
angels,  and  our  dear  Christian  friends  and  parents  and 
brothers  and  sisters  who  are  dead,  wearing  glistening 
raiment  white  as  snow,  and  having  golden  harps  in  their 
hands  and  glorious  crowns  upon  their  heads ;  a  world 
so  beautiful  that  no  painter  ever  painted  and  no  child 
ever  dreamed  of  anything  so  lovely.  Heaven !  Heaven ! 
oh,  what  a  glorious  place  it  is !  And  therefore  we  say 
that  a  Christian  walks  a  pleasant  way,  for  it  leads  him 
to  heaven. 

And  now  we  shall  not  preach  to  you  much  longer. 
These  are  the  reasons  why  the  road  to  heaven  is  pleasant. 
It  is  a  good  road,  which  God  made  for  little  children  to 
walk  in.  It  is  a  safe  road.  In  it  a  little  child  will  not 
fall  off  the  precipices  of  sin,  nor  be  torn  in  pieces  by 
the  roaring  lions  of  Satan.  It  lies  through  a  pleasant 
country  ;  for  though  earth  is  a  wilderness,  God  makes  it 
to  good  children,  as  the  text  says,  to  bud  and  blossom 
as  the  rose.  It  is  traveled  in  pleasant  company,  for  all 
good  people  go  in  it  and  the  shining  angels  go  w^ith  them, 
to  guide  and  guard  them.  And  it  leads  to  a  blessed 
dwelling-place — a  city  with  foundations,  whose  builder 
and  maker  is  God.  All  these  things  would  make  any 
road  pleasant;  and  so  my  text  tells  you  that  all  who 
walk  in  this  road  are  happy.  '^  The  ransomed  of  the  Lord 


A   ROYAL  HIGHWAY.  241> 

slvall  retwrn  and  come  to  Zion  icith  songs  and  everlasting 
joy  upon  their  heads  ;  they  shall  have  joy  and  gladness^ 
and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  flee  aicayJ^ 

And  now,  dear  children,  what  I  want  you  to  do  is  to 
Avalk  in  this  highway  of  holiness  toward  that  glorious 
home,  i.  e.,  we  want  you  to  bo  Christians,  to  repent  of 
sin,  to  love  and  trust  Jesus,  and  to  be  just  such  good 
children  as  God's  Word  describes.  All  Christians  are 
going  to  heaven.  I  hope  your  father  and  mother  and 
brothers  and  sisters  are  going  there.  Some  of  you,, 
perhaps,  have  no  father  or  mother.  We  hope  they  are 
there  in  heaven  waiting  for  theii'  dear  children.  And 
we  are  certain  that  if  you  give  your  hearts  to  God^ 
and  live  and  serve  Him,  you  will  go  to  Him  ;  and  then 
life  will  be  so  pleasant,  and  its  end  so  glorious.  It  avIU 
be  just  as  my  text  describes  it,  like  the  return  of  the 
Jews  from  captivity.  They  have  been  exiles  in  that  far 
country,  far  away  from  their  beloved  Jerusalem,  and 
when  God  prepared  a  way  for  their  return,  then  they 
went  happily,  with  flashing  eyes  and  bounding  feet, 
filling  the  air  with  their  singing  voices.  "  Returning  to 
Zion  with  songs  and  everlasting  joy  upon  their  headsJ^ 
And  when  they  reached  the  hills  that  surrounded  Jeru- 
salem, and  looked  down  upon  that  most  magnificent  of 
landscapes,  the  whole  multitude  of  pilgrims  broke  forth 
into  song  in  some  of  their  inspired  Psalms.  "  Great  is 
the  Lord,  and  greatly  to  be  praised  in  the  city  of  our 
God  in  the  mountain  of  His  holiness.  Beautiful  for 
situation,  the  joy  of  the  whole  earth,  is  Mt.  Zion,  the 
city  of  the  great  king.  Walk  about  Zion,  mark  her 
bulw^arks,  consider  her  palaces.  Praise  ye  the  Lord. 
Praise   Him   in    His   sanctuary.     Praise   Him  in   the 


250  A  ROYAL  HIGHWAY, 

iirmament  of  His  power."  Thus  literally  they  did 
^'  return  to  Zion  with  songs  and  everlasting  joy  upon  their 
heads.''  They  did  have  ^'joy  and  gladness,''  and 
^'sorroiv  and  sighing  "  did  "y?e<?  aicay." 

And  so  will  it  be  with  you  if  you  will  go  with  us  to. 
Him.  All  the  way  through  the  wilderness  you  will  be 
good,  happy,  singing  children.  Your  life  will  be  like 
John  Bunyan's  Christian  in  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress." 
And  he  tells  us  his  path  lay  along  the  Delectable  Moun- 
tains, where  were  gardens  and  orchards  and  vineyards 
and  fountains  of  water,  and  through  the  fair  land  of 
Beulah,  where  the  sun  shone  day  and  night,  and  new 
ilowers  appeared  every  day  on  earth,  and  the  sweet  air 
was  filled  with  the  singing  of  birds,  and  Christian  was 
joyous  because  of  the  presence  of  the  shining  ones  and 
of  the  sight  of  the  city  which  he  saw  builded  of  pearls 
and  precious  stones  just  beyond  the  dark  river.  Mt. 
Zion,  the  Heavenly  Jerusalem,  the  innumerable  com- 
panies of  angels  and  the  spirits  of  just  men  made 
perfect,"  and  whose  journey  ended  most  gloriously. 
For  when  he  come  to  tlie  gate  of  the  city  he  was  trans- 
figured ;  his  raiment  shone  like  gold,  and  harps  and 
crowns  were  given  them.  And  when  the  gates  opened 
to  let  them  in,  behold  the  city  shone  like  the  sun,  and 
therein  w^alked  shining  ones  with  palms  in  their  hands, 
and  there  were  those  also  which  had  wings,  and  cried. 
Holy !  holy  !  holy  is  the  Lord  ! 

And  as  happy  as  Christian's  will  be  your  lives  and 
your  deaths  if  you  go  w^ith  us  to  heaven.  And  you  will 
understand  just  what  it  means,  this  precious  text  of  ours. 
And  you  will  understand  what  this  beautiful  hymn 
means  which  your  dear  superintendent  has  had  printed 
for  you  and  we  are  now  about  to  sing. 


HEART  ISSUES. 


"  Keep  thy  heart  with  all  diiii^cuce,  for  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of 
life.'' — Proverbs  iv.  23. 

We  have  here  another  of  the  marvelously  terse,  com- 
prehensive, epigrammatic  proverbs  of  that  wisest  of 
men,  Solomon.  There  is  in  it  material  for  a  hundred 
discourses,  and  it  can,  of  course,  be  considered  only  most 
cursorily  and  imperfectly  in  one.  There  are  here  three 
important  things  either  expressed  or  implied. 

I.  A  duty. 

II.  Its  method,  and, 

III.  Its  motive.     And, 

First.  Here  is  a  duty  enjoined,  viz.,  a  diligeut  keep- 
ing of  the  heart.  The  words  Solomon  here  uses  do 
themselves  with  sufficient  clearness  explain  the  duty. 
The  Hebrews  regarded  the  heart  as  the  seat  or  centre 
not  only  of  the  physical,  but  as  well  of  all  intellectual, 
emotional,  moral  life — a  palace  wherein  the  soul,  or  self, 
sat  enthroned  over  all  its  own  passions  and  emotions 
and  thoughts.  The  word  "  J:ecp  '^  implies  both  control 
and  conservation.  The  inspired  direction  is  to  keep 
earnest  watch  and  ward  over  those  faculties  of  the 
understanding,  affecting  conscience  and  will,  which 
make  up  human  selfhood,  and  were  regarded  by  the 
Hebrews  as  having  their  seat  in  the  heart.  The  intel- 
lect must  be  kept  in  a  state  of  constant  discipline  and 
development.  The  will  must  be  kept  in  subjection  to 
the  reason.     The  affections  must  be  oruarded  from  all 


252  HEART  ISSUES. 

unworthy  or  impure  associations  or  contacts.  The  con- 
science must  be  kept  ever  both  alert  and  enlightened. 
And,  in  short,  intellect,  will,  affections,  and  conscience 
must  all  be  docile  as  to  a  Heavenly  Teacher,  loyal  as  to 
a  Divine  Sovereign.  Or,  speaking  of  the  synthesis  of 
all  these  faculties  or  functions  in  a  composite  heart,  that 
heart  must  be  kept  wakeful  and  active  in  life's  true 
business,  must  be  kept  conscious  of  its  own  high  destiny 
as  essentially  immortal,  must  be  kept  watchful  and  well 
armed  as  an  immortal  strong^iold  against  all  assaulting 
foes  without  it  and  all  disguised  traitors  within,  must  be 
kept  ever  mindful  of  its  own  feebleness  and  danger,  and 
therefore  of  its  dependence  upon  Divine  aid  for  happi- 
ness and  life.  This,  simply  and  shortly,  Is  the  nature 
of  the  duty  which  Solomon  enjoins  in  the  comprehen- 
sive Hebrew  proverb  of  "  heeping  the  heart.'''' 

But  the  exliortation  goes  farther.  Kot  only  must  the 
heart  be  kept,  but  it  must  be  kept  ^'  with  (ill  diligence;'^ 
or,  as  the  Hebrew,  ''  Kept  with  all  heeping,^^  denoting  an 
unlntermitting,  untiring,  and  intelligent  circumspection 
and  control.     And  this  leads  us  to  consider, 

Secondly.  Tiie  method  of  the  duty.  In  order  to 
any  ^such  wise  and  successful  heart-keeping,  there 
must  be, 

I.  First  of  all,  a  thorough  self-knowledge.  If  a 
man  keeps  a  strongliold  or  city,  lie  must  understand 
well  both  its  external  dangers  and  internal  resources  and 
defences;  and  if  one  keep  a  heart,  that  heart  must  be  an 
object  of  careful  and  constant  study  and  inspection.  The 
grand  theme  of  all  his  thought,  next  to  his  Creator,  must 
be  himself.  And  yet  it  is  amazing  how  little  the  great 
mass  of  mankind  know  of  their  own  souls  or  selfhood. 


HEART  ISSUES.  253 

So  intensely,  so  almost  exclusively  hath  this  age  become 
materialistic,  that  metaphysics  is  regarded  as  scarcely  a 
Kving  science,  as,  indeed,  only  a  barbarous  relic  or  effete 
fossil  of  the  old  scholasticism ;  and  Phrenology  or  an 
outward  examination  or  inward  analysis  of  the  material 
brain  has  taken  very  widely  the  place  of  true  moral  or 
mental  Philosophy.  The  w^orld  is  to-day  more  con- 
cerned with  steam  and  electricity  and  magnetism  than 
about  the  powers  and  processes  of  the  human  soul  or 
spirit.  The  frivolous  multitude  understand  far  better 
the  dress  and  adornments  of  the  body  and  the  edifica- 
tion and  appointments  of  its  dwelling-place  than  the 
mysterious  powers  and  processes  of  the  living  spirit  of 
which  the  body  itself  is  only  a  living  tabernacle ;  and 
the  philosophic  few  are  more  concerned  about  Geologic 
formations  and  Zoophytic  developments  than  about  the 
essence  and  operations  of  their  OAvn  immortal  souls.  To 
the  majority  of  men  this  day  the  veriest  stranger  in  the 
world  is  their  individual  selfhood.  And  if  by  some 
spiritual  magic  tlie  shadow,  so  to  speak,  of  their  own 
souls  could  be  flung  on  some  broad  tablet  or  tapestry 
before  them,  it  would  fare  Avith  them  as  with  the 
peasants  of  the  Hartz  Mountains,  Avho,  looking  from  the 
Erocken  on  the  dark  background  of  cloud,  fltd  in  terror 
from  their  own  shadow,  as  from  a  monstrous  spectre. 

We  know  little  of  ourselves  even  mentally.  If  the 
atheistic  scientist,  who  because  of  some  physical  resem- 
blances argues  man's  con-natural ity  with  the  gorilla, 
could  make  excursion  into  the  recesses  of  the  human 
spirit,  and  study  the  essential  and  ineffable  differences 
between  the  automatic  material  of  instinct  and  the  all- 
glorious  spiritual  construction  and  adjustments  of  intel- 


254  HEAR T  ISSUES. 

leet,  the  mighty  thought,  the  deathless  alfections,  tlic 
iueifable  aspirations  Avhich  make  up  a  living  spirit,  he 
would  come  forth  at  least  with  a  self-respect,  disclaim- 
ing all  this  relationship  with  the  beast.  I  repeat  it, 
men  know  little  of  themselves  mentally,  and  even  less 
of  themselves  morally.  When  the  Prophet  thought  to 
foreshow  unto  Hazael  the  outworkings  of  his  future  life, 
the  royal  Syrian  recoiled  from  the  awful  picture,  and 
cried  out  indignantly,  "  Is  thy  servant  a  dog,  that  he 
should  do  such  things  ?"  Alas  !  he  knew  not  his  own 
self.  And,  my  brother,  if  I  could  take  to-day  a  Divine 
lamp,  and  go  down  with  you  into  the  recesses  of  your 
own  spirit,  and  show  you,  as  in  the  light  of  God's  coun- 
tenance, the  latent  principles  of  evil  that  all  unsuspected 
abide  there ;  if  I  could  walk  with  you  through  your 
own  dark  chambers  of  imagery,  and  fling  a  Divine  illu- 
mination upon  their  furniture  and  adornments,  upon  the 
statuary  that  stand  in  their  recesses  and  the  pictures  that 
are  hung  along  their  walls,  then  there  is  not  one  of  you, 
the  most  outwardly  moral  and  virtuous,  who  ^vcmld  not 
think  himself  wandering  through  some  black  cavern  of 
demons,  and  flee  from  the  awful  revelation  as  from  the 
terrible  spectres  of  the  dead. 

Sure  I  am,  that  we  are  all  lamentably  deficient  in 
self-knowledge;  and  sure  I  am,  as  well,  that  self-knowl- 
edge is  the  first  necessity  in  a  wise  and  thorough  keeping 
of  the  heart.  But  important  as  it  is,  it  is  not  the  only 
thing,  nor  the  main  thing.  It  is,  indeed,  only  prepara- 
tory to  great  active  duty.  Observe,  therefore,  that  in 
order  to  any  wise  keeping  of  the  heart,  there  must  be, 

Sccondlij.  Vigorous  and  vigilant  self-government. 
Having  learned  the  power,  propensities,  and  perils  of 


HEAR  T  ISSUES.  255 

the  soul,  I  must  set  myself  with  all  the  might  that  is  in 
me,  carefully  to  govern  and  guard  it.  I  must  watch  it 
with  all  my  might ;  and  I  must  watch  it  always.  Aware 
of  traitorous  impulses  within,  I  must  keep  them  in  iron 
fetters.  Aware  of  the  tremendous  adversaries  without, 
I  must  meet  them  at  every  point  and  with  invincible 
weapons.  The  man  who  thinks  that  these  moral  vic- 
tories are  to  be  vron,  like  the  guerdons  of  these  holiday 
tournaments,  without  battle-axe  or  shield,  and  with  un- 
grinded,  pointless  lances,  egregiously  mistakes  the  con- 
ditions of  the  combat.  I  have  no  space  to  set  forth  this 
thought  fittingly,  and  I  only  advert  to  it  thus  briefly  to 
show  that  without  heavenly  aid  the  thing  is  impossible. 
And  therefore  observe, 

Tkirdhj.  That  he  who  would  keep  his  own  heart 
successfully  and  safely  must  seek  for  Divine  succor  and 
strength.  And  here  you  find  the  secret  of  the  failure 
of  all  moral  reforms  that  are  without  Godliness.  They 
are  attempts  to  keep  fortresses  wherein  the  very  garrison 
are  traitors,  ever  earnest  and  eager  to  admit  the  enemy, 
and  they  must  fail,  as  they  do,  because  success  is  simply 
impossible.  The  very  self-knowledge  and  attempted 
self-control  we  have  been  considering  are  useful  mainly 
as  convincing  us  that  the  duty  we  are  considering 
requires  aid  from  on  high.  We  must  have  God  without 
us  as  One  ^'  in  whom  we  live,'^  and  Christ  formed  within 
as  the  "Hope  of  Glory."  And  although  when  thus 
garrisoned  and  guarded,  with  the  angels  of  God  abiding 
in  beauty  and  strength  within  the  spiritual  mansion,  and 
chariots  of  fire,  as  around  the  old  Prophet,  filling  all  the 
mountains,  then,  I  say,  we  can  keep  our  own  hearts,  yet 
even  then  it  must  be  done  "  loith  all  diligence,'"     By 


256  HEART  ISSUES. 

constant  self-circumspection  and  self-control,  the  mind 
must  be  kept  in  a  state  of  heavenly  knowledge.  The 
aifections  must  l)e  kept  fixed  on  objects  Divine  and 
spiritual.  The  will  must  be  k('[)t  humbly  submissive  to 
the  Divine  will.  The  conscience  nuist  be  kept  truthful 
and  tender,  as  if  in  the  very  presence  of  God  and  in 
preparation  for  eternity.  And  tlius,  and  thus  only, 
active  in  our  own  work,  yet  depending  on  Onmipotence, 
not  attempting  to  do  God's  part,  nor  expecting  God  to 
do  ours,  thus  only  can  we  hope  to  fulfill  this  inspired 
Proverb,  and  ^'  h'ci)  ilw  heart  d'dlgenfly.''^  And  this 
brings  us, 

Thirdbj  andfuialltj^  To  consider  the  great  motive  to 
the  duty.  "  For  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of  life.^^  The 
language  is  mctapliorical ;  the  allusion  is  anatomically 
to  the  arteries  in  the  body,  which  conduct  the  purified 
blood  from  the  heart  to  tlie  extremities,  thus  both  pre- 
serving life  and  giving  it  strength  to  Avork  out  all  its 
manifold  ministries.  And  the  point  of  the  motive  is, 
that,  as  thus  considered,  the  heart  is  the  fountain  or 
mainspring  of  all'  moral  action.  Tlioughts,  purposes, 
words,  actions,  all  originate  in  the  heart,  and  to  keep  the 
heart  right  is  to  keep  all  life  right,  the  whole  world 
right. 

It  is  impossible  to  exaggerate  or  over-color  this 
solemn  truth.  Whatever  cs'il  there  is  in  the  universe  is 
the  result  of  sinful  thought.  It  existed  in  the  sinful 
heart  before  it  took  on  it  material  form  and  Avas  madj 
manifest  to  the  senses.  And  if  you  Avould  understand 
what  terrible  things  you  are  doing  when,  leaA'ing  your 
heart  unkept,you  seem  to  be  doing  nothing,  then  gather 
into  sosne  immense  area  all  thins^s  that  a'ou  call  evil. 


HEART  ISSUES.  257 

All  those  heathen  temples,  crowded  with  countless  ^vor- 
shipers,  screaming,  frenzied,  polhited,  despairing,  all 
dungeons  of  immorality,  those  dens  of  infamy,  those 
hospitals  of  agony,  those  wheels  and  racks  of  inquisi- 
torial torture,  all  those  martyr  stakes  and  flames,  all 
those  suicidal  death-fires,  that  whole  innumerable  host 
i)i  orphanage  and  widowhood,  that  hideous  aggregate  of 
want  and  wretchedness,  that  mortal  ruin  and  immortal 
desolation,  inspired  by  human  cruelty,  wrought  out  by 
human  violence,  those  desolated  cities  and  depopulated 
kingdoms  and  trampled  and  bloody  battle-fields  that 
have  marked  the  track  of  the  world's  mighty  con- 
querors ;  pile  into  one  gliastly  Golgotha  all  the  throb- 
bing hearts  ;  gather  into  one  horrible  asphaltites  all 
the  blood  and  tears  which  man's  wild  passions  have 
l^roduced ;  bring  up  from  the  yawning  grave  ail  the 
bodies  of  earth's  dead  ;  bring  lack  from  the  outer- 
darkness  all  the  ghostly  spirits  of  the  self-destroyed ; 
and  over  all  that  terrible  panorama  let  God's  tempests 
howl,  and  God's  storm-clouds  gather,  and  God's  thun- 
der-bolts flash  ;  and  as  from  some  overhanging  pinnacle 
you  look  down  upon  the  scene,  you  will  behold  only  the 
inspiration  and  issues  of  an  unkept  heart.  All  these 
things  are  but  human  thoughts  revealed,  only  the  out- 
flowing of  black  and  bitter  waters  from  the  impure 
fountain  within  you.  These  all  are  the  results  of  sin ! 
SIX ! 

But  what  is  sin  ?  A  spiritual  abstraction  ?  Ah,  no! 
no  !  no  !  Sin  is  but  the  quality  of  living  creatures. 
What  our  philosophy  speaks  of  as  the  grand,  the  sub- 
lime, the  beautiful,  the  terrible,  are  not  objective  quali- 
ties   of  the    material,    but    subjective    qualities  of    the 


258  HEART  ISSUES. 

spiritual.  The  grandeur  of  the  mountain,  the  magnifi- 
cence of  ocean,  the  loveliness  of  landscape,  the  ineffable 
splendors  of  the  firmament,  are  only  emotions  within 
the  soul  of  the  sentient  spectator.  The  monstrous  spirit 
of  evil  is  not  a  fiery  demon  escaped  from  some  far-away 
prison-house,  but  the  evil  thought  of  man  issuing  from 
his  chambers  of  imagery.  Imagine,  then,  this  principle 
of  evil,  now  unperceived,  perhaps  slumbering  or  latent 
within  the  heart  of  au  infant,  were  to  assume  material 
form,  and  shut  up  in  some  great  prison-house,  and  any 
one  of  you  were  appointed  its  keeper,  the  watch  and 
ward  of  the  demon  that  it  should  not  go  forth  to  work 
desolation  and  death  through  the  universe,  and  would 
you  dare  to  give  sleep  to  your  eyes  or  slumber  to  your 
eyelids  ?  Would  you  not  stand  close  up  to  the  iron 
portal,  your  ear  open  to  every  sound  from  within,  with 
stronar  rio^ht  arm  and  unsheathed  sword  to  drive  back 
the  escaping  monster?  ^ay,  distrustful  of  your  strength, 
would  you  not  summon  mighty  allies  ;  yea,  twelve 
legions  of  angels  to  aid  your  momentous  watch  ?  And 
yet  in  all  this  you  would  only  be  keeping  an  unsanctified 
human  lieart. 

Nor,  though  the  work  be  more  grateful  and  joyous, 
yet  not  the  less  vigilant  and  earnest  must  be  the  keeping 
of  the  redeemed  and  sanctified  spirit.  While  we  remain 
in  the  flesh  our  experience  be  ever  that  of  Paul — a  law 
of  the  members  warring  with  the  law  of  the  mind,  and 
keeping  us  in  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin  in  the  mem- 
bers. And  our  own  work  is  to  wrestle  with  it,  "  God, 
indeed,  working  within  us  both  to  will  and  to  do."  Yet, 
on  the  whole,  "with  fear  and  trembling  working  out  our 
own  salvation."     Nor  is  it  enough,  for,  indeed,  it  is  not 


HEART  ISSUES,  259 

anything  to  keep  tlie  outer  man  from  overt  evil.  Yon 
may  keep  sleepless  and  strong  Avatch  over  all  your 
Inortal  members ;  you  may  keep  the  eye  from  sinful 
sights  and  your  ear  from  syren  voices  ;  your  hand  from 
violence  and  your  feet  from  falling;  your  tongue  from 
idle  words  and  all  your  outward  life  from  infamy  and 
pollution,  and  yet  in  all  this  you  have  not  '*  hepi  the 
heart  with  diligence.'''*  You  have  sweetened  the  stream, 
yet  left  the  fountain  bitter.  You  have  shut  the  serpent 
closer  in  its  den,  and  driven  the  lion  farther  into  the 
desert,  yet  left  them  living  monsters,  as  before — still  lion 
and  serpent.  The  heart,  the  whole  living  heart,  the  very 
indwelling  soul,  the  immortal  selfhood,  this  you  may  not 
be  keeping ;  and  verily  this  is  a  great  W' ork,  and  a  glorious. 
I  have  imagined  you  the  keeper  of  the  great  principle 
of  evil.  Change  the  fancy  again.  Suppose  God  should 
create  suddenly  in  the  universe  an  inflmt  archangel,  and 
bringing  it  down  to  this  Avorld,  appoint  one  of  you  its 
guardian,  and  He  should  say,  "Behold  here  is  a  glorious 
creature  essentially  like  Gabriel.  AVithin  that  unfold- 
ing spirit  are  the  burning  affections,  the  ineffable  ener- 
gies, the  all-glorious  thoughts,  the  boundless  aspirations, 
all  the  surpassing  faculties  and  functions  of  archangel ic 
life.  Those  pinions  shall  strengthen  for  as  immense  a 
flight ;  on  that  brow  shall  blaze  as  resplendent  a  diadem. 
Yonder  in  the  metropolis  of  my  universal  kingdom 
await  his  coming.  An  archangel's  palace  and  throne,  an 
archangel's  ministry  and  recompense  of  reward  and 
tremendous  responsibilities  and  stupendous  destiny ;  and 
now  into  your  hands  I  commit  this  young  spirit,  to  be 
guided  in  safe  paths  and  disciplined  and  developed  for 
that  grand  and  glorious  future.     Suppose  God  should 


260  HEAR  r  ISSUES. 

do  that.  Is  there  one  of  you;  is  there  a  mortal  man  on 
the  earth  who  would  dare  accept  the  sacred  charge  and 
attempt  the  sacred  culture  ?  Would  not  your  earnest 
cry  be,  ^^  Oli,  I  cannot ;  I  dare  not.  Who  is  sufficient 
for  this  great  thing?  Keep  it.  Keep  it  under  Thine 
own  sleepless  eye,  under  the  shadow  of  Thine  own 
wings,  oh,  Lord  God  Almighty!"  And  yet  this,  just 
this,  God  does  when  he  sets  you  to  keep  your  own 
hearts.  Yea,  even  more  than  this.  "  Know  ye  not," 
says  Paul,  ^'That  ye  shall  judge  angels?"  Every 
redeemed  man  man  is  advancing  to  a  destiny  so  surpass- 
ing all  other  created  beings  that  the  angels  themselves 
are  around  him,  guiding  his  footsteps,  guarding  his  mid- 
day labors  and  his  midnight  slumbers,  "  bearing  him  up 
on  their  wings,  lest  he  dash  his  foot  against  a  &tone," 
and  presently  carrying  him,  like  the  spirit  of  the  poor 
man,  from  the  rich  man's  gate  to  Abraham's  bosom. 

Oh  thou  redeemed  one !  Oh  thou  saved  soul !  Oh 
thou  child  of  God  !  Oh  thou  joint-heir  with  Christ 
Jesus !  have  respect  unto  thyself.  Who  can  tell  you  of 
the  embryonic  powers,  faculties,  affections,  aspirations 
that  are  fast  developing  within  thee  ?  Of  the  mighty 
path  you  shall  tread?  Of  the  vast  deeds  you  shall 
accomphsh  ?  Of  the  transcendent  empires  you  shall 
rule  "  when  this  corruptible  shall  have  put  on  incor- 
ruption,  and  this  mortal  put  on  immortality  ?  Oh 
watchers  over  an  immortal  spirit !  sleep  not  in  the 
solemn  watch.  Oh  guide  and  guard  of  a  living  soul !  Le 
faithful  in  your  ministry.  Oh  redeemed  disciple  of 
Jesus !  following  His  ascending  footsteps  unto  heaven, 
^^  Keep  !  keep  !  keep  thy  heart  with  dlligencey  for  out  of 
it,  out  of  ity  are  the  issues  of  Ufe.''^ 


REAPING  TARES. 


"Didst  thoH  not  sew  good  seed  i*  whence,  then,  hath  it  tares  ?''' — 
Matthew  xiii.  27. 

True  religion  is  nothing  more  than  sanctified  common- 
sense.  The  wisest  man  who  ever  lived  uses  the  word 
wisdom  as  a  synonym  for  piety,  and  the  Bible  every- 
where speaks  of  sin  and  error  as  identical,  and  calls  a 
wicked  man  '^a  fool/' 

All  that  God  requires  of  any  man  is  to  act  in  regard 
of  spiritual  things  as  common-sense  would  dictate  in 
regard  of  natural  things.  And  Christ  Avas  always  in- 
sisting on  this  fact ;  every  one  of  His  parables  teaches 
this.  So  in  this  parable  its  great  point  is,  that  good 
seed  will  produce  good  fruit.  The  servants  of  this 
householder  were  amazed  beyond  measure  that  this  case 
seemed  exceptional.  Every  thoughtful  child  knows 
that  the  fruit  is  always  like  the  seed  sown.  And  this  is 
a  truth  just  now  which  the  world  practically  exhibits. 
Go  into  seed-stores,  and  you  find  them  crowded  with 
men  anxiously  enquiring  about  the  best  sorts  of  seeds 
for  grains  and  grasses  and  fruits  and  flowers.  Even 
little  children  are  anxious  about  their  flowers.  And  do 
not  suppose  for  a  moment  that  this  is  a  truth  which,  even 
in  its  lowest  literal  application,  does  not  concern  you. 
If ^ these  men  select  bad  seeds,  every  one  of  you  will 
suffer.  You  will  have  bad  bread,  unwholesome  vege- 
tables, sour  or  bitter  fruit,  if  these  men  are  foolish. 
Certain  v/e  all  are  of  the  great  truth  tliat  every  seed 


262  REAPING  TARES. 

produces  after  its  kind.  All  men  of  common-sense  be- 
lieve this  and  rejoice  In  it.  The  most  ungodly  man  on 
earth  is  glad  of  it.  If  he  should  sow  wheat  in  his  field, 
and  it  produced  tares  ;  if  he  should  plant  a  lily-bulb, 
and  it  came  up  a  cabbage  ;  if  he  were  to  set  out  a  peach- 
tree,  and  the  fruit  were  crab-apples,  or  even  if  the  pro- 
ducts were  intrinsically  better  than  the  seed ;  if  desiring 
tobacco  he  should  procure  its  seed,  and  the  product  be 
mignonette  or  honeysuckle ;  if  in  need  of  acrid  pepper 
he  were  to  plant  the  most  unsavory  germ,  and  the 
growth  prove  delicious  pine-apples,  still  the  man  in  his 
disappointment  would  fill  the  air  with  angry  expletives. 

This  development  of  seed  after  its  kind  is  a  great  law 
of  nature  which  common-seuse  delights  in ;  and  yet  it 
is  just  this  law  in  relation  to  moral  and  spiritual  things 
which  the  infidel  and  ungodly  deny  and  even  hate,  and 
in  this  show  their  lack  of  common-sense,  and  prove  them- 
selves fools.  If  there  be  anything  more  than  another 
which  they  abhor  and  execrate,  it  is  the  thought  of  a 
future  retribution,;  that  God  will  reward  every  man 
according  to  his  works.  And  yet,  thoughtfully  pon- 
dered, this  whole  thing  is  nothing  else  than  this  law  of 
seed-growth  carried  into  the  sphere  of  the  spiritual  and 
immortal.  The  Scriptures  everywhere  represent  future 
suffering,  even  carried  to  the  extent  of  eternal  punish- 
ment, not  so  much  as  an  arbitrary  infliction,  but  as  a 
natural  effect  to  evil-doers  of  a  well-established  law.  It 
is  simply  leaving  the  soul  in  eternity  to  do  what  it  every- 
where is  doing  In  time,  "to  eat  of  the  fruit  of  its  own 
way,  and  be  filled  witli  its  own  devices." 

Now,  I  have  just  said  that  in  regard  of  natural  things 
men  are  glad  of  this  law ;  aiid  even  in  regard  of  moral 


REAPING  TARES.  263 

and  spiritual  things  in  this  world  every  man  under- 
stands and  acknowledges  the  justice  and  the  wisdom, 
yea,  the  goodness  of  this  law.  It  is  obviously  the  grand 
ordinance  of  human  life,  under  which  all  common-sense 
men  work  out  their  successes.  They  know  that  if  a 
young  man  commit  a  single  immoral  act,  he  has  begun 
a  habit  which  will  grow  with  his  growth.  He  has  sown 
an  evil  seed  which  will  produce  an  evil  harvest.  They 
know  that  if  by  any  wrong-doing  to  their  neighbor  they 
excite  his  indignation,  they  have  planted  a  seed  of  hatred 
in  a  fruitful  soil,  that  in  the  end  will  work  them  mis- 
chief. They  know,  in  short,  that  every  good  emotion 
cherished  in  their  own  hearts,  and  every  good  deed  exer- 
cised toward  their  neighbor,  is  the  germ  of  a  growth 
wdiose  harvests  will  enrich  them.  And  therefore  in  the 
spring-time  and  early  summer  of  their  life,  with  all  the 
lieedfulness  of  these  men  who  select  good  seed  for  their 
gardens,  they  planted  in  their  own  moral  nature  germs 
of  industry,  frugality,  temperance,  fortitude,  integrity, 
cheerfulness,  courtesy,  benignity ;  and  now  in  the  com- 
petency, respectability,  peace,  and  gladness  of  a  mature 
and  successful  life,  they  are  only  eating  the  fruits  of 
their  own  doings,^gathering  the  harvest  of  good  seed 
producing  its  own  kind. 

Thus  Ave  all  know  and  acknowledge  the  goodness  of 
this  law  of  development.  We  go  forth  in  the  world, 
instantly  and  almost  instinctively  acknowledging  that 
all  its  good  things  and  its  evil  things  result  from  this 
law,  as  wheat  and  tares  are  the  growth  either  of  good 
seeds  or  of  evil. 

For  generations,  running  back  beyond  all  history,  it 
may  be  to  the  Flo(xl,  tribes  of  men  have  lived  here,  and 


2G1  REAPING  TARES. 

thought  and  acted.  But  when  discovered  by  the  adven- 
turous Genoese  years  ago,  their  moral  and  intellectual 
life  had  its  true  emblem  in  the  monstrous  growths  of  the 
inhospitable  wildernesses  and  malarious  jungles,  upon 
which  the  eye  of  Columbus  first  looked.  Wigwams  and 
war- weapons,  treachery,  cruelty,  savage  manhood,  en- 
slaved w^omanhood,  these  were  the  foul,  rank,  horrible 
growths  of  thousands  and  thousands  of  years,  just  be- 
cause evil  giants  of  old  time  had  sown  tares  in  the 
field. 

But  then,  thanks  be  to  God,  came  an  era  of  better 
culture.  God\s  providence  winnowed  the  garners  of  the 
old  world  for  good  seed,  and  shipped  it  in  small  vessels 
and  little  parcels  over  the  unknown  seas.  William 
Penn  came  with  the  fine  wheat  to  the  Delaware ;  and 
Captain  Newport  landed  with  choice  rice  at  Jamestown ; 
and  the  weather-beaten  Mayflower  furnished  the  hardier 
grains  on  Plymouth  Pock  ;  and  Hudson  brought  escu- 
lent plants  into  New  York  harbor.  And  the  well- 
chosen  seed  fell  into  good  ground,  and  brought  forth 
^ood  fruit.  And  though  as  we  walk  through  the  hus- 
bandry to-day  we  find  in  high  places  and  in  low,  un- 
seemly moral  growths,  which  extort  the  very  cry  of  the 
text,  "  Didst  tlioxi  not  sow  good  seed  in  this  (/round  f 
IVhencej  then,  hath  it  tares  f 

Neverthelesss,  as  we  look  on  these  grov/ths  of  indus- 
try and  enterprise  and  energy,  these  implements  of  peace 
which  have  supplanted  the  Indian  Avar-clubs,  and  these 
fertile  fields  and  beautiful  homes  and  smiling  hamlets 
and  mighty  cities,  rising  up  where  a  century  agone  the 
red  savage  roamed  and  wallowed  ;  we  must  see  in  it  all 
only  a  grand  illustration  of  the  text's  great  law  that 


REAPING  TARES.  265 

seeds  produce  after  their  kind,  and  rejoice  that  our 
earlier  husbandmen  sowed  good  seed  in  their  fields. 

I  have  no  space  to  pursue  further  the  illustration. 
Manifestly  this  is  God's  ordinance  in  the  temporal.  Tfe 
do  reap  us  loe  sow.  And  why,  then,  should  we  not 
expect  it  to  be  God's  law,  as  well,  in  the  spiritual  and 
eternal  ?  Certain  "we  are,  this  is  God's  law  of  retribu- 
tion ;  and  while  in  respect  lo  states  and  conditions  of 
being  the  wicked  and  the  good  may  receive  different 
treatment,  yet  the  very  essence  of  the  recompense  will 
be  ever  the  same.  *'  They  that  sow  to  the  flesh,  reaping 
corruption.  They  that  sow  to  the  spirit,  reaping  life 
everlasting." 

Now,  what  our  text  leads  us  to  do  is  to  accept  this 
law  as  a  settled,  steadfast,  inexorable  ordinance  of  tlje 
Almighty  God,  and  live  under  it  as  men  of  practical 
common-sense ;  to  choose  our  seed  well,  in  view  of  the 
fact  that  we  must  reap  as  we  sow. 

I.  In  regard  of  our  natural  harvests,  which  ripen  * 
every  year,  not  to  sow  thistle-seed  in  our  garden,  nor 
plant  wild-grapes  in  our  vineyard.     And  as  it  takes  no 
more  labor  to  raise  good  than  bad,  to  select  the  best. 

II.  In  regard  of  our  moral  harvests,  which  come 
only  once  in  a  life-time,  to  take  heed  that  in  our  indi- 
vidual acts,  which  become  so  soon  settled  habits,  either 
habits  of  industry,  economy,  honesty,  temperance,  pui-ity, 
benevolence,  which  render  manhood  respectable  and  old 
age  happy  ;  or  habits  of  indolence,  sensuality,  dishon- 
esty, malignity,  which  render  the  w^hole  after-life  only  a 
trembling  bondage  to  Satan,  and  in  the  end  bring  to 
want  and  infamy,  a  despairing  death-bed  and  an  exe- 
crated grave  ;  in  regard  of  all  these  temporal  interests 


26ij  REAPING  TARES. 

wo  ciioose  the  geriii.s  which  are  to  give  shape  and  color 
to  our  whole  earthly  life  with  the  common-sense  of  a 
gardener  when  he  trades  with  these  seed-merchants. 

III.  And  above  all,  assured  alike  from  philosophy 
and  revelation  that  this  great  law  of  God  must  reach  into 
liigher  and  immortal  spheres,  and  that  eternal  retribution 
is  only  the  eating  the  fruits  of  our  own  earthly  doings, 
and  that  throughout  the  immense  cycles  of  the  after  life, 
*^  Pie  that  hath  sown  unto  the  flesh  shall  reap  corrup- 
tion, and  he  that  hath  sown  nnto  the  spirit  shall  reap 
life  everlasting ;"  that,  assured  of  this,  I  say,  we  choose 
wisely  the  seed  we  sow  in  our  spiritual  fields. 

This,  of  course,  is  the  main  and  momentous  applica- 
tion of  the  text's  great  principle.  Oh  that  God  would 
give  power  to  His  own  parable !  Seeds!  Seeds!  ah,  me! 
what  wonderful  things  they  are.  That  small,  dark, 
insignificant  granum  which  a  butterfly's  wing  might 
sweep  away  from  a  lily's  cup,  yet  embosoms  a  splendid 
flower,  which  puts  to  shame  the  imperial  glory  of  Solo- 
mon. That  brown  acorn,  which  a  spring- sparrow  lifts 
in  its  little  bill,  becomes  presently  a  giant  oak  ;  and  the 
beasts  and  birds  for  generations  build  nests  in  its 
branches,  and  rejoice  in  its  shadow. 

Seeds  !  Seeds !  Oh  to  a  prescient  eye  what  possibili- 
ties, what  realities,  what  colors  of  beauty,  what  shapes 
of  majesty,  what  glorious  hopes,  what  ineffable  fruitions, 
are  embodied  in  a  seed !  And  analogous  to  this,  but 
immeasurably  more  wonderful,  are  the  embryonic 
])Owers,  which  in  the  form  of  thoughts,  emotions,  pas- 
sions, are  embodied  in  the  moral  germs  we  are  daily 
sowing  in  our  own  immortal  souls. 

And   ill  this  regard    all  tills  mortal   life    is   spring- 


REAPING  TARES.  267 

time,  and  we  are  all  alike  sowers.  There  is  a  pitiful 
misrepresentation  ;  there  is  a  foul  slander  ;  nay,  there  is 
most  cruel  and  destructive  heresy  in  the  popular  pulpit 
declamation  that  these  sinful  men  and  women  are  living 
only  for  the  passing  moment,  and  that  it  is  only  the 
true  Christian  who  lives  for  eternity.  No  !  no !  no ! 
We  are  all  of  us,  and  equally,  living  for  eternity.  The 
child  amid  flowers,  the  youth  in  the  dance,  the  merchant 
on  change,  the  sailor  on  the  sea,  the  proud  man  walking 
scornfully  through  the  crowd,  the  vain  man  riding  in 
his  blazing  chariot,  and  the  poor  beggar  who  asks  alms 
in  the  street,  and  the  polluted  outcast  that  wallows  in 
kennels  ;  these  as  verily  as  God's  angels  are  living  and 
acting  for  eternity,  all  alike,  as  the  husbandman  in 
spring-time,  selecting  and  sowing  seed,  seed. 

We  are  all  alike  giving  shape  and  character  and  con- 
dition to  our  whole  immortal  after-life.  We  are  pro- 
jecting the  plan  and  working  at  the  specifications  and 
preparing  the  material  of  the  houses  that  yonder  in  the 
spirit  sphere  we  shall  inhabit  forever.  Our  earthly 
thoughts  and  imaginations  and  emotions  are  only  the 
moral  pictures  we  are  working  upon  the  canvass  and  the 
statuary  we  are  chiseling  out  of  the  adamant,  which 
either  in  horrible  art  shall  deform  or  in  heavenly  beauty 
shall  glorify  our  immortal  chamber  of  imagery. 

The  impenitent  and  ungodly  man,  in  the  selfish, 
malignant,  impure  passions  he  is  cherishing  in  his  bosom, 
is  rocking  the  cradle  of  foul  fiends  that  forever  stalk- 
through  the  darkened  and  desolate  palace  of  his  soul,  as 
the  doleful  creatures  through  death- caverns  of  Petra, 
only  to  terrify  and  torture ;  while  the  contrite,  penitent, 
believino;  soul  that  has  taken  Christ  as  its  Saviour  in  all 


268  REAPING  TARES. 

those  heavenly  affections  it  is  developing  ana  strengthen- 
ing, is  giving  culture  and  beauty  and  glory  to  the  very 
angels  of  God  that  shall  cross  the  threshold,  and  sit 
down  at  the  banquet,  and  chant  their  hallelujahs,  and 
fling  out  all  their  glories  in  those  high  places  in  the 
heavenly  mansions  which  the  triumphing  Christ  hath 
ascended  to  prepare  for  those  who  love  Him  ! 

This,  then,  is  our  text's  practical  truth.  This  is  the 
great,  solemn,  reverseless  law  of  life,  which  makes  time 
a  probation  and  eternity  retribution  ;  and  yet  which  to 
the  wise  man  seems  almost  the  most  joyous  of  all  Divine 
ordinances.  It  is  this  very  law  which  renders  the 
spring-time  so  hopeful  and  gladdening.  True  it  is,  it 
hath  no  hope,  and  should  bring  no  rapture  either  to  the ' 
indolent  man  who  will  not  plow  by  reason  of  the  cold, 
or  to  the  insane  man  who  will  sow  only  tares  in  his 
field.  But  to  the  wise  man,  going  forth  with  good  seed, 
every  wild  bird  that  sings  in  the  wood  hath  come  as  a 
visiting  angel,  promising  opening  flowers  for  every 
garden,  ripe  fruit  far  every  field. 

And  so  is  it  with  every  soul  wise  for  eternity.  This 
law  of  retribution  makes  earthly  life  most  precious.  It 
crowds  into  every  fleeting  moment  possibility  of  ineffa- 
ble goodness  and  grandeur.  It  is  the  spring-time  of  the 
immortal.  And  ready-furnished  to  our  hands  are  God's 
good  seeds  of  salvation  and  eternal  life,  which  with 
wise  husbandry  will  make  even  this  earthly  experience 
fragrant  and  beautiful  with  all  flowers  of  grace,  and  the 
heavenly  life  rich  beyond  all  the  aims  of  avarice,  or 
glorious  beyond  the  dreams  of  ambition,  rapturous  with 
all  the  ripe  fruits  of  glory. 

Oh  that  witli  a  common-sense  as  careful  of  the  spirit- 


REAPING  TARES.  269 

ual  as  of  the  natural,  we  would  take  counsel  of  the  great 
Husbandman,  and  look  Avell  to  our  seeds !  That  youth 
would  select  those  sorts  that  bring  forth  lilies  and  roses, 
and  manhood  such  as  fill  the  vineyards  with  purple 
clusters  and  the  fields  with  golden  grain.  For  then  we 
should  all  go  forth  to  this  short  and  sometimes  sorrowful 
earthly  life  as  men  go  afield  in  these  eliill,  cloudy, 
changeful  April  days,  with  eyes  sparkling  and  feet 
bounding  iu  the  joyous  inspiration  of  the  Divine  Law 
(3f  our  text  that  we  shall  presently  eat  of  the  fruits  of 
our  own  doings,  and  that  hewhosoweth  good  seed  shall 
not  gather  tares. 


OMNIPRESENCE. 


"  Do  not  I  fill  heaven  and  earth  ?  saith  the  LordT — Jeremiah 
XXIII.  24. 

There  is,  perhaps,  nothing  upon  which,  as  at  once  the 
instrument  and  the  occasion  of  eloquence,  men  have 
dwelt  more  eloquently  than  the  power  and  the  perfection 
of  human  language ;  and  yet,  having  reference  to  the 
great  purposes  which  that  language  was  intended  to 
supply,  there  is,  perhaps,  nothing  so  poor  and  imperfect 
in  the  whole  rano^e  of  Divine  instrumentalities.  Even 
in  the  common  intercourse  of  life,  who  has  not  felt  its 
powerlessness  and  poverty  ?  In  a  description  of  the 
every-day  things  of  materialism,  ^vho  has  failed  to  per- 
ceive the  advantage  which  the  painter  possesses  over  the 
wielder  of  the  pen  ?  Even  from  what  poetic  page  do 
the  living  scenes  of  'nature  flash  upon  the  soul  as  from 
the  colored  canvass  ?  And  if  you  turn  from  material 
forms  to  mental  phenomena,  how  much  more  manifest 
in  respect  of  them  is  the  weakness  of  articulate  language. 
AYho  has  not  felt  in  his  own  experience  the  utter  poAver- 
lessness  of  words  to  express  feelings  ?  In  the  rush  of 
overmastering  emotions,  excited  by  some  marvel  of 
the  mental  or  some  majesty  of  the  material  world,  who 
has  not  felt  the  heart  almost  breaking  within  him  in  the 
all-in- vain  attempt  to  communicate  those  emotions  ? 
Indeed,  eloquence  itself,  in  these  lofty  outbursts  almost 
omnipotent  in  their  sway  over  multitudes,  has  been  not 
so  much  the  eloquence  of  spoken  words  as  the  eloquence 


OMNIPRESENCE.  271 

of  occasion  and  association^  tlie  unvvTitten  eloquence  of 
an  inflamed  soul  speaking  not  so  much  upon  the  tongue 
as  from  the  eye  and  the  feature  and  the  intense  energy 
wherewith  passion  finds  utterance  in  every  muscle  and 
movement  of  the  human  frame.  We  say,  even  in  respect 
of  earthly  things,  language  is  comparatively  poor  and 
powerless.  And,  then,  in  the  conveyance  of  any  just 
ideas  of  heavenly  things  how  utterly  worthless  is  it. 

We  read  of  a  poor  girl  born  blind,  who,  being  of  a 
passionate  and  poetic  temperament,  had  feasted  her  heart 
upon  those  high-wrought  and  glowing  descriptions  of 
external  nature  which  abound  among  the  exaggerations 
of  Oriental  song,  till  she  could  talk  wisely  and  with 
apparent  understanding  of  trees  and  flowers  and  forests 
and  fountains,  yea,  could  discourse  rapturously  of  those 
great  lineaments  of  the  natural  world  which  were  gath- 
ered round  about  her.  She  had  formed  within  her  mind 
distinct  ideas  of  all  those  objects  of  which  men  gifted 
with  vision  talked  so  delightedly,  and  verily  believed 
that  as  perfectly  as  those  that  beheld  them  from  day  to 
day  she  imderstood  the  character  and  the  beauty  and  the 
glory  of  God's  handiwork  in  the  material  world.  There 
came,  though,  at  last,  to  her  home  a  foreign  operator  of 
great  skill,  and  promised  at  small  expense  of  sufiering 
to  remove  the  obstructions  to  her  vision,  A  few  days 
after  the  operation,  the  girl  was  led  out  from  her  dark- 
ened chamber  to  one  of  the  loveliest  landscapes  of  the 
Oriental  world,  and  the  veil  and  the  bandage  at  once 
removed  from  her  eyes,  and  her  vision  rested  for  the 
first  time  on  that  prodigality  of  grace  and  glory  where- 
with a  bounteous  God  has  decked  the  dwellings  of  our 
race.     She  etooi  for  a  moment  bowed  and  overcome  by 


272  OMNIPRESENCE. 

t!ie  resplendent  vision.  Then,  breaking  forth  in  lan- 
guage of  lofty  petition,  prayed  that  if  she  were  dreaming 
she  might  dream  forever.  She  thought  slie  was  on  earth ; 
this  was  heaven.  She  wondered  what  had  become  of 
the  world  in  wliieli  she  had  dwelt.  Then,  falling  on 
her  face,  she  2:)rayed  God  to  take  away  a  little  of  that 
wondrous  loveliness  ;  so  much  glory  would  kill  her. 
She  understood  then  how  poor  a  medium  language  is 
for  conveying  ideas  of  living  things  unto  the  soul.  And 
all  this  most  fully  illustrates  the  powerlessness  of  human 
words  to  convey  impressions  of  heavenly  things  unto  the 
soul.  Wlio  of  us  has  not  sympathized  with  Paul  when, 
after  his  rapture  into  the  third  heaven,  he  could  only  say 
of  the  glories  which  gathered  round  him,  that  he  heard 
unspeakable  Avords.  And  to  us  infinitely  more  eloquent 
of  heaven's  matchless  splendors  tlian  all  \\\q^  visions 
vouchsafed  unto  John,  was  the  silence  of  the.  Gentile 
Apostle,  who,  though  his  pathway  lay  through  all  the 
fearfulness  of  a  martyr's  death,  yet  yearned  constantly 
to  depart  and  be  >vith  Christ.  Human  language,  we 
say,  is  utterly  powerless  to  convey  ideas  of  spiritual 
things  ;  and  I  doubt  not  the  first  feeling  of  the  enrap- 
tured spirit  as  it  finds  itself  ushered  into  the  sparkling 
beatitudes  beyond  the  grave  is  that  of  bewildering  wonder 
at  the  feebleness,  yea,  the  utter  unlikeness  of  its  earthly 
conceptions  of  heaven. 

Now,  it  is  this  poverty  and  powerlessness  of  human 
language  in  respect  of  spiritual  things  which  rendei- 
theology  so  difficult  a  study,  and  all  attempts  to  speak 
intelligibly  of  some  of  tlie  Divine  attributes  utterly- 
futile.  Take  Divine  power,  for  instance.  When  I 
speak   of  that  attribute  as  it  exists  in  finite  manifesta- 


OMNIPRESENCE.  273 

tions,  my  ideas  are  of  efficiency  overcoming  resistance, 
so  that  always  in  my  mind  the  thought  of  power  is 
associated  with  the  thought  of  some  opposing  difficulty. 
But  how  unlike  all  this  must  be  the  Divine  attribute  of 
omnipotence — that  efficiency  doing  all  things  Avithout 
effort,  having  in  all  the  breadth  of  its  great  operations 
never  a  difficulty  to  overcome,  "  speaking  and  it  is 
done,"  ^'  commanding  and  it  stands  fast,"  saying,  "  Let 
there  be  light  and  there  is  light."  Or  you  may  take 
what  is  perhaps  the  most  difficult  of  comprehension  in 
all  the  wonders  of  Deity — that  Divine  attribute  spoken 
of  in  the  text — the  omnipresence  of  God.  And  who  at 
the  very  annunciation  of  the  passage  does  not  feel  how 
utterly  inadequate  is  language  to  a  setting  forth  of  the 
quality  ? 

To  be  omnipresent  is  to  be  everj^vhere  at  once.  Not 
to  be  in  one  part  of  the  universe,  however  important  may 
be  that  part,  and  to  be  absent  in  some  other  part  com- 
paratively insignificant  ;  not  to  be  in  one  part  of  that 
universe  now,  and  the  next  moment  in  some  other  part, 
passing  in  the  speed  of  mighty  travel  from  star  to  star 
and  from  system  to  system,  but  to  be,  at  this  very 
instant  of  time,  actually  here  and  actually  in  the  loneli- 
est island  of  the  far-away  sea,  anci  actually  in  the  re- 
motest star  that  twinkles  in  the  remotest  firmament  of 
heaven ;  and  yet  not  to  be  omnipresent  in  the  sense  in 
which  an  atmosphere  is — a  part  of  it  here  and  a  part  of 
it  in  the  cavern  of  some  distant  mountain,  and  a  part  of 
it  traveling  over  the  waters  of  some  far-aAvay  sea ;  for 
to  ascribe  extension  to  the  Divine  essence  would  be  to 
materialize  Deity,  for  that  which  is  extended  has  parts, 
and  that  which  has  parts  is  not  spirit.     But  to  be  omni- 


274  OMNIPRESENCE. 

present  in  such  a  sense  that  with  all  His  attributes  ami 
all  His  essence,  indeed,  with  His  whole  person,  God  is 
here  this  moment  as  verily  as  I  am  here.  And  with  all 
His  essence  God  is^this  moment  in  the  farthest  point  of 
our  wide  world ;  and  with  all  His  essence  God  is  at  this 
moment  in  the  loftiest  portion  of  the  remotest  heaven. 
Now  what,  I  pray  you,  more  than  the  veriest  whisper- 
ings of  idiotcy  can  the  loftiest  language  avail  in  an  illus- 
tration of  such  an  attribute  ?  Indeed,  imagination 
itself,  in  its  mightiest  graspings,  can  not  overtake  the 
vast  thought ;  and  where  imagination  is  at  fault  what  is 
all  the  power  of  language  ?  Who,  even  in  contempla- 
tion of  the  attribute,  does  not  feel  as  he  of  Uz  felt? 
Oh,  that  I  knew  where  I  might  find  Him  !  that  I  might 
comt!  near  unto  His  seat.  But  I  go  forward  and  Pie  is 
not  there,  and  backvv'ard,  but  I  can  not  perceive  Him. 
Therefore  am  I  troubled  at  Hi>^  presence  ;  when  I  con- 
sider I  am  afraid  of  Plim.  And  where  lives  the  man, 
though  he  had  an  angel's  vision  and  an  angel's  tongue, 
who  in  attempting  to  discourse  upon  Divine  Immensity 
w^ould  not  feel  a;j  David  felt  in  a  like  endeavor,  confess- 
ing his  impotence,  and  at  the  same  time  putting  upon 
the  attribute  its  very  finsst  illustration  when  he  cried 
out  in  the  depth  of  his  humility,  ^^  Such  knowledge  is 
too  wonderful  for  me.  -  It  is  high  ;  I  can  not  attain 
unto  it." 

We  have  seen  that  language  can  not  embody  many  an 
idea  in  itself  perfectly  comprehensible  by  the  intellect. 
And  what,  then,  has  language  to  do  even  in  an  attempted 
embodying  of  those  thoughts  that  burden  and  overbear 
the  mind  of  a  finite  in  its  struggles  to  comprehend  the 
infinite.     For  ourselves,  my  brethren,  we  attempt  no 


OMNIPRESENCE.  275 

such  task  to-day.  The  philosophy  of  the  Divine  Omni- 
presence we  leave  to  be  pondered  in  the  broad  pupilage 
of  eternity.  It  is  simply  with  the  Divine  Omni- 
presence as  a  theological  fact  that  we  would  engage  your 
attention  this  morning.  There  are  several,  and  all  in 
themselves  satisfactory  proofs  of  the  omnipresence  of 
God.  Some  of  these  are,  indeed,  of  too  subtle  and 
metaphysical  a  character  to  be  easily  apprehended, 
though  on  this  account  they  are  in  no  degree  less  certain 
and  convincing.  We  confine  ourselves  to  two  or  three 
more  common-place  and  of  less  difficult  comprehension. 
First,  And  first  we  infer  the  fact  of  the  Divine 
Omnipresence  from  the  perfections  of  the  Divine  Nature. 
The  fundamentaF  truth  of  theism  is,  that  every  con- 
ceivable perfection  belongs  to  God.  As  Abraham  said 
in  reference  to  injustice,  so  Faith  says  of  everything 
tending  in  the  least  to  diminish  the  Divine  glory — "  This 
be  far  from  thee."  But  we  feel  at  once  that  that  limi- 
tation of  nature  whereby  a  creature  is  confined  to  a  cer- 
tain place  at  a  certain  time  is  an  imperfection.  And  of 
two  creatures,  in  other  respects  equal,  that  is  by  far  the 
most  glorious  the  velocity  of  whose  movements  enable 
it  to  be  in  two  different  places  at  the  slightest  interval 
of  time.  So  that  you  will  never  arrive  at  the  idea  of 
entire  perfection  on  this  point  till  you  ascribe  unto  a 
Being  the  capacity  of  being  everywhere  at  the  same 
moment.  And  setting  out  with  the  assumption  that 
God  is  a  Being  in  respect  of  attribute  and  essence  abso- 
lutely perfect,  you  cannot  for  one  moment  conceive  Him 
as  being  separated  from  any  part  of  the  universe  or  any 
point  of  immensity.  To  regard  His  essence  as  circum- 
scribed by  any  boundaries,  however  mighty,  would  be  to 


276  OMNIPRESENCE. 

ascribe  to  Him  in  some  degree  creature  imperfections. 
And  thus  from  a  simple  consideration  of  the  being  of  a 
God,  the  question  of  the  text  comes  along  with  all  the 
evidence  of  a  felt  fact.  '^  Do  not  I  fill  heaven  and  exirth  f 
saith  the  Lord." 

Secondly.  Now,  the  same  truth  will  be  apparent,  if 
instead  of  the  Divine  essence,  which  is  but  another 
name  for  the  aggregate  of  the  Divine  attributes,  you 
consider  those  attributes  individually.  Every  consistent 
believer  in  the  Divine  existence  regards  every  one  of 
these  attributes  as  absolutely  infinite  in  perfection ;  so 
that  in  the  opinion  of  sound  theism  to  say  that  God  is 
infinite  in  wisdom  and  holiness  and  justice  and  power  is 
only  to  say  that  God  is  God.  But  *to  declare  of  the 
same  Being,  that  He  is  infinite  in  perfections,  yet  finite 
in  nature,  involves  a  manifest  contradiction  and  absurd- 
ity, since  it  is  to  sup])ose  a  person  to  be  finite  and  infi- 
nite at  the  same  time.  And  beside  all  this,  infinity  of 
essence  is  absolutely  necessary  to  any  efficient  operation 
of  the  Divine  attributes  ;  for  although  it  is  not  for  man 
to  understand  the  mode  of  the  Divine  existence,  nor  the 
method  of  Divine  operations,  yet  it  is  a  principle  having 
In  the  human  mind  all  the  force  of  a  felt  truth,  that 
nothing  can  operate  where  it  does  not  exist.  By  a  figure 
of  speech  I  know  that  we  may  say  of  some  master- 
mind, that  it  Is  influencing  the  world  while  itself  con- 
fined to  one  place ;  or  of  some  mechanical  power,  that, 
while  applied  only  at  one  point,  it  is  operative  in  every 
part  of  a  complicated  machinery  ;  yet  in  neither  case  it-' 
our  language  strictly  true.  It  is  the  product  of  the 
mind,  and  not  mind  itself,  that  is  influential  in  the  one 
case ;  and  it  is  the  transmission  of  the  power,  and  not 


OMNIPRESENCE.  211 

tlie  po\\er  itself,  Avhich  is  operative  in  the  otiier  c*aso. 
And  to  suppose  that  Divine  operations  are  carried  on 
by  means  of  any  sucli  borrowed  or  transmitted  efficiency 
is  manifc-^tly  to  ascribe  human  imperfections  to  the 
character  of  God.  To  say,  therefore,  that  God  is  infin- 
itely wise  and  provident  and  powerful  is  to  assert  most 
clc^irly  the  infinite  presence  of  God.  That  you  may 
])erceive  more  clearly  the  force  of  this  argument  we  will 
aj)p]y  it  t(t  a  single  Divine  attribute,  e.  g,^  the  power  of 
God,  showing  that  if  God  be  everywhere  efficiently 
])ov»^erful,  God  must  be  everywhere  essentially  present. 

Thirdly.  W^e  remark,  then,  in  the  third  j^lace,  that 
the  omnipresence  of  God  may  be  proved  from  the  w^orks 
of  God.  Take,  for  instance,  the  work^f  Creation — the 
making  of  all  things  out  of  nothing  instantaneously,  so 
that  at  the  breathing  of  a  word  in  a  moment  there 
sprang  into  being  all  that  stupendous  system  of 
worlds  that  move  in  the  broad  fields  of  immensity.  These 
Avere  all  the  at-once  creation  of  Almighty  power.  But 
what  is  Almighty  power  ?  Xot,  surely,  a  mere  quality 
of  God  distinct  from  the  essence  of  God  ;  but  that 
essence  itself  in  exercise.  So  that  Divine  omnipotence 
is  nothing  else  than  God  Himself  working.  And  there- 
fore, as  creation  in  its  whole  extent  was  an  instantaneous 
production  of  God's  power,  God  must  at  that  verv 
instant  have  been  absolutely  j)resent  at  every  point  of 
that  creation's  amplitude. 

Now,  just  the  same  force  of  argument  under  another 
aspect  may  be  gathered  from  a  consideration  of  the 
preservation  or  providential  government  of  the  universe 
subsequent  to  its  creation,  lleason  and  revelation  alike 
teach  us  that  the  only  efficient  power  Avhereby  the  great 


278  OMNIPRESENCE. 

movements  of  materialism  are  carried  oa  and  modified 
is  Divine  power.  To  suppose  that  after  its  creation  the 
universe  was  left  to  take  care  of  itself,  and  that  all  its 
multiform  movements  are  nothing  more  than  the  results 
of  its  own  inherent  properties,  is  to  contradict  reason, 
which  ascribes  inertia,  or  utter  powerlessness,  as  the  sub- 
stratum property  of  matter,  and  is  to  contradict  the 
Bible,  which  everywhere  ascribes  providence  to  the 
alone  agency  of  God,  and  is,  verily,  to  utter  the  foulest 
blasphemy  by  supposing  creation  independent  of  its 
Creator,  thus  implying  that  were  Deity  actually  annihil- 
ated, there  would  occur  no  interruption  in  the  movements 
of  materialism.  The  simple  fact  is,  that  what  philosophy 
calls  laws  of  natui»e  are  not  powers  in  themselves  operative, 
but  simply  processes  of  Divine  operation.  So  that  in 
whatever  portion  of  the  universe  we  discover  proofs  of 
an  operative  agency — as  in  the  motion  of  the  elements, 
in  the  growth  of  vegetables  and  animals,  in  any  move- 
ment of  materialism,  yea,  in  any  one  of  the  ten  thousand 
processes  of  mind — there  do  we  perceive  a  direct  and 
immediate  forth-putting  of  the  power  of  God.  But  no 
agent  and  no  power  of  an  agency  can  act  whei*e  that 
agent  is  not ;  and  therefore  if  God  acts  everywhere,  the 
conclusion  is  unavoidable  that  God  must  be  everywhere. 
We  have,  then,  in  this  ])oint  nothing  more  to  do  than 
to  appeal  to  your  own  senses,  remembering  that  wherever 
you  see  a  process  (jf  nature  you  see  a  direct  forth-putting 
of  Divine  power;  so  that  in  the  growth  and  blossoming 
of  every  flower  you  behold  the  Eternal  One  just  then 
actually  busy  with  the  implements  of  artlsanship,  hollow- 
ing its  tubes  and  chiseling  its  stature  and  coloring  with 
a  luagic  pencil  its  enameled  leaves ;  and  whenever  you 


OMNIPRESENCE.  279 

behold  ocean  rousing  itself  in  awful  grandeur  you  jnst 
then  behold  the  Eternal  One  tossing  tlie  waters  in  His 
matchless  strength  ;  and  Avhenever  you  behold  a  cloud 
floating  away  in  the  upper  heaven  through  the  abysses 
of  space,  just  then  do  you  behold  the  God -guided  chariot 
wherein  the  Eternal  One  rideth  abroad  ;  yea,  whenever 
you  behold  any  movement  of  materialism,  j  ust  then  do 
you  perceive  a  positive  demonstration  of  the  then  and 
there  absolute  presence  of  the  living  God.  Remember- 
ing this,  we  say,  and  you  have  but  to  look  ever  so  care- 
lessly abroad  unto  the  world  within  or  around  or  above 
you  to  perceive  as  a  felt  truth  the  Divine  Omnipresence. 
For  where,  I  pray  you,  in  all  the  breadth  of  the  uni- 
verse, is  the  spot  where  as  an  oi)erative  agent  God  may 
not  be  found  ?  Go  to  the  loneliest  desert  of  the  Eastern 
World,  wdiere  vegetation  lies  withering  under  the  con- 
suming heat,  yet  in  the  sunbeams  that  break  around 
and  the  reptile  that  crawls  beneath  and  the  clouds  that 
Avander  through  the  heavens  above  you,  ye  behold  the 
demonstration  of  the  presence  of  God.  Descend  into 
those  deepest  caverns  of  earth,  where  geology  has  never 
ventured,  and  though  for  thousands  of  years  not  a  living 
voice  has  startled  the  echoes  of  their  awful  vaults,  yet 
in  the  water  drop  that  oozes  through  the  fissured  rock 
and  the  crystal  radiance  of  the  jeweled  roof  you  behold 
the  living  manifestation  of  a  present  God.  Fathom  the 
great  depths  of  ocean — down,  down,  where  the  plum- 
met sounds  not  and  the  light  of  day  struggles  with  a 
faint  and  a  ghastly  gloom,  and  even  there,  in  waters 
teeming  w^ith  organic  life,  will  you  perceive  the  great 
God  busy  at  His  work.  Go  down  into  the  awful  recep- 
tacle of  the  dead,  and  the  worm  that  feedeth  on  the  fes- 


280  O  -  MNIPRL  SENCE. 

tering  lip  whispers  of  Go<l.  Conic  up  into  the  living  and 
lovely  world,  and  in  everything  that  hath  life  or  breath 
or  motion  you  see  God  effieiently  present.  I^ay  your 
hand  upon  your  heart ;  you  perceive  only  the  finger  of 
God  bu^y  in  its  every  pulse.  Behold  the  sparkling  of 
that  sunbeam ;  God  is  just  now  busy  with  its  beautiful 
materialism.  Listen  to  that  whisper  of  the  wind  ;  God 
is  busy  there.  Look  abroad  over  these  hills  ;  God  is  at 
work  just  now  with  their  snowy  garniture.  Send  up 
vour  vision  to  the  heavens  above.  The  great  sun. 
Yesternight  he  went  down  pillowed  amid  golden  clouds; 
and  never  had  he  risen  again  to  his  broad  journeylngs 
had  not  God  been  there  to  rouse  him  with  His  mighty 
voice,  and  gird  him  anew  for  his  giant  travel.  The  stars 
of  heaven,  so  vast  in  their  materialism  and  so  innumer- 
able in  their  nuiltitudes  and  so  fearful  in  their  rushing 
velocitv,  \'ct  each  one  rounded  into  beauty  and  guided 
in  immense  travel  and  preserved  unharmed  amid  the 
vast  mechanism  of  the  heavens  just  because  the  Almighty 
God  dwelleth  there  busy  in  all  the  assiduity  of  His 
unlimited  love  in  'the  superintendence  of  its  every  pro- 
cess and  its  every  power.  And  oh  !  if  you  could  take 
the  wings  of  the  morning,  and  flee  away  through  the 
depths  of  heaven  unto  those  remoter  firmaments,  the 
starlight  of  whose  richer  glory  has  never  struggled 
through  the  overwhelming  intervals  of  separation  unto 
the  human  eye;  should  you  alight  there  on  the  feeblest 
star  of  the  farthest  constellation,  and  sit  yourself  down 
in  the  loneliest  spot  of  the  smallest  and  most  desolate 
island  that  dots  the  expanse  of  its  oceans,  still  there, 
even  there,  in  the  varied  movements  of  materialism  and 
the  processes  of  organic  life  would  you  l)ehold  the  visi- 


OMNIPRESENCE.  281 

bie  workings  of  ii  present  Deity.  And  if  there  be  in 
that  world,  as  in  ours,  spring-time,  with  its  beautiful 
creations,  then  ever  in  that  farthest  point  of  creation's 
outskirts  would  you  behold  the  Eternal  One  busy  with 
all  His  omnipotence  in  rounding  the  dew-drops  and 
penciling  the  lily's  leaf  and  feathering  the  wing  of  the 
tiniest  insect  and  gathering  the  lineaments  of  the  radi- 
ant landscape  into  one  glorious  panorama  of  loveliness 
and  life. 

Where,  then,  we  ask  you  again,  where,  I  pray  you,  in 
all  the  breadth  of  the  universe  is  the  spot  where  as  an 
operative  agent  God  may  not  be  found  ?  \yhere  is  the 
solitude  so  lonely  that  no  insect  creeps  there  ?  Where 
is  the  desert  so  dreary  that  no  green  thing  breathes 
there  ?  Where  is  the  depth  so  profound  that  therein 
nature  has  no  processes  ?  Where  is  the  fii-mament  so 
remote  that  no  star  sparkles  there  ?  Yet  wherever  you 
iind  these,  there  you  find  God.  There  is  no  solitude 
that  He  does  not  fill,  and  no  creature  that  He  does  not 
sustain,  and  no  movement  that  He  does  not  originate, 
and  no  world  that  He  does  not  control.  So  that  you 
have  but  to  actualize  the  sublime  conceptions  of  the 
Psalmist  to  ascend  up  into  heaven,  and  make  your  bed 
in  hell,  and  taking  the  wings  of  the  morning  dwell  in 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea  ;  and  finding,  as  you 
would  find,  in  all  the  breadth  of  this  mighty  journey- 
ing no  world  so  lost  or  no  spot  so  lonely  that  therein 
you  would  not  stand  surrounded  and  overborne  by  the 
amazing  witness  unto  a  present  God  ;  and  you  w^ill  per- 
ceive how  there  goes  along  the  force  of  a  felt  fact  w^ifch 
the  sublime  questioning  of  God  unto  the  Prophet — "  Am 
I  a  God  at  hand  ?  saith  the  Lord,  and  not  a  God  afar 


2o_!  OMNIPRESENCE. 

oiT?  Can  any  one  liide  himself  in  secret  places  that  I 
shall  not  see  him  ?  saith  the  Lord.  Do  not  I  fill  heaven 
and  eartli  ?  saith  the  Lord." 

Now,  of  the  reflections,  abundant  and  interesting^ 
which  press  upon  us  in  the  winding-up  of  these  remarks, 
we  confine  ourselves  to  two. 

Find.  And  we  remark,  in  the  first  place,  that  the 
doctrine  of  Divine  omnipresence  is  a  doctrine  fraught 
with  the  tenderest  consolation  unto  the  Christian. 
Through  whatever  scenes  of  grief  or  of  gladness  may 
lie  his  pathway,  he  is  in  the  constant  presence  of  w 
friend,  yea,  of  a  Father ;  and  when  he  riseth  at  day- 
dawn,  or  slumbereth  in  the  night  watches,  or  standeth 
wearied  in  the  market-place,  or  wandereth  in  loneliness 
apart  in  the  Avllderness,  at  home  or  abroad,  at  sea  or  on 
shore,  he  is  side  by  side  with  his  omnipotent  Helper, 
and  he  can  weep  no  tear  that  God  sees  not,  and  breathe 
no  sigh  that  God  hears  not,  and  utter  no  prayer  that 
God  regards  not ;  and  though  dangers  may  beset  him 
and  difficulties  environ  and  darknesses  envelop,  still 
nothing  can  separate  him  from  the  love  of  God.  He 
may  be  sorely  beset  with  temptations,  and  his  flesh  and 
his  heart  may  fail  him,  yet  the  Lord  of  hosts  will  stand 
at  his  right  hand,  a  shield  and  a  buckler.  He  may  be 
in  want,  and  his  little  ones  may  look  up  complainingly 
from  their  scanty  raiment  and  their  rude  food,  yet  in  all 
the  glory  of  His  radiant  presence  shall  the  Eternal  One 
enter  his  lowly  threshold  and  sit  at  his  humble  board, 
and  those  cottage  walls  shall  so  shine  out  with  the 
resplendent  visitations  of  Godhead,  that  out  of  that 
coarse  bread  and  that  cruse  of  water  there  shall  be 
wrought  the  elements  of  a  banquet  of  which  the  highest 


OMNIPRESENCE.  283 

archangel  ^yould  rejoice  to  partake.  Yea,  and  dangers 
mightier  may  environ  him.  God's  enemies  may  gather 
in  strength, and  lord  it  over  human  destinies;  and  there 
may  be  the  opening  of  dungeons,  and  the  binding  on  of 
fetters,  and  the  screwing  of  the  enginery  of  torment, 
and  the  kindling  up  of  the  fires  of  martyrdom,  yet  as 
amid  the  fierce  flames  of  the  Babylonian  death-fires  there 
walked  one  in  form  like  unto  the  Son  of  God,  so  there 
shall  gather  no  danger  around  the  believer  which  his 
Maker  shall  not  share  and  soften.  Let  the  tear  start ; 
a.  tender  hand  shall  be  there  to  wipe  it.  And  let  dark- 
ness gather  ;  the  ^'  Light  of  the  World''  shall  be  there  to 
irradiate.  And  let  dungeons  be  opened,  yet  the  God 
who  feeds  the  raven  will  be  there.  And  let  the  death- 
fires  kindle,  yet  the  God  wdio  clothes  the  lilies  will  be 
there. 

Second.  Our  second  remark  is,  that  this  doctrine  is 
an  awful  doctrine  unto  the  unbeliever.  My  beloved  out 
of  Christ,  ye  think  thoughts  and  commit  acts  daily  that 
ye  would  not  for  the  w^orld  the  dearest  friend  ye  have 
on  earth  should  know.  Many  an  hour  have  you  re- 
tired into  your  secret  chambers,  and  drawn  the  curtains 
carefully  to  shut  out  human  eyes,  and  there  in  the  com- 
mission of  secret  sins,  ye  would  have  been  fearfully 
terrified  had  ye  heard  the  wing  of  a  visiting  angel  on 
the  air  of  that  chamber,  or  a  brother's  footfall  as  it 
paused  beside  you.  You  thought  yourselves  alone.  Oh ! 
you  were  mistaken.  God  w^as  there.  Never  have  you 
so  betaken  yourself  unto  solitude,  or  enveloped  your- 
selves in  darkness,  or  gathered  around  you  the  shelter- 
ing of  so  deep  a  security,  but  there  stood  close  by  your 
side,  girt  about  wdth  the  glory  of  omnipotence,  the  God 


284  OMNJFRESENCE. 

of  heaven.  Do  what  you  will,  and  flee  where  you  will^ 
and  shelter  yourselves  as  you  will,  and  rejoice,  if  you 
will,  that  in  secrecy  and  in  solitude  you  have  shut  out 
the  eye  of  each  human  witness,  yet  be  you  certain  as 
there  is  a  heaven  above  you,  that  an  omniscient  eye  will 
be  on  you.  God  rideth  upon  the  wing  of  the  wind  ; 
He  will  overtake  you.  God  hath  His  way  in  the  whirl- 
wind and  in  the  storm  ;  and  mightily  through  barrier 
and  bolt  and  bar  He  will  force  entrance  into  your  soli- 
tude and  sit  down  beside  you,  and  fix  His  stern  eye 
on  you,  and  every  action  will  He  look  upon,  and  every 
word  will  He  hear,  and  every  thought  will  He  remem- 
ber. If  you  had  the  wisdom  of  an  archangel  you  could 
not  baffle  Him  ;  and  if  ve  had  the  wins;  of  an  archano-el 
you  could  not  escape  Him  ;  and  if  you  had  the  might 
of  an  archangel  you  could  not  withstand  Him. 

'^Ascend  into  heaven.  He  is  there."  ^^ Descend  into 
hell,  He  is  there."  Behold  !  even  now,  right  by  your 
side  standeth  God.  When  you  go  away  hard-hearted 
to-day,  God  will  walk  with  you.  When  you  lie  down 
on  your  prayerless  pillows  to-night,  God  will  be  there 
by  your  bedside.  He  will  be  with  you  in  life.  He  will 
be  with  you  in  death.  He  will  be  with  you  at  the 
Judgment.  He  will  be  with  you  through  eternity. 
Think  of  it!  Oh,  think  of  it!  God  everywhere  a 
God  !  Everywhere  omnipotent,  everywhere  an  enemy 
to  thti  unbeliever. 


OMNIPOTENCE. 


"  Bl  still,  niid  kno'cv  that  I  am  Gody — PSALM  XLVI.  lo. 

Every  truth  lia.^  a  twofold  aspect,  and  is  either  alarmiug 
or  consoling  as  Ave  stand  related  to  it.  It  is  so  of  all 
natural  truth.  Tlie  law  of  gravitation,  so  rejoiced  in 
by  the  wise  man,  wlio  adjusts  all  liis  doings  to  its  condi- 
tions as  that  which  works  out  all  the  harmonies  of  tlie 
universe,  becomes  terrible  to  tlie  foolish  man,  who 
stands  carelessly  in  the  path  of  the  avalanche  or  sports 
on  the  crumbling  verge  of  a  precipice.  The  law  of 
combustion,  which  so  cheers  and  blesses  us  as  we  sit  by 
pleasant  firesides,  startles  and  affrights  when  a  raid- 
night  conflagration  kindles  in  our  dwelling.  So  of  all 
truth  in  nature,  and  so,  especially  and  more  impressive- 
ly, of  every  revealed  truth.  Every  attribute  of  God  is 
like  the  old  Shekinah,  having  a  side  of  glory  and  a  side 
of  gloom,  a  gladdening  light  unto  obedient  Israel,  but 
a  terrible  darkness  unto  rebellious  Egypt.  And  every 
utterance  or  oracle  of  the  Divine  Voice  is  alarmincr  or 
encouraging  according  to  the  relation  we  sustain  to 
God,  either  as  His  enemies  or  His  children.  So  it  is  of 
our  text.  The  grand  truth  it  teaches  has  obviously  in 
its  connection's  this  twofold  application.  This  Forty- 
sixth  Psalm  is  sublimely  dramatic.  It  is  one  of  those 
battle  scenes  Avhich  the  heroic  genius  of  the  earlier 
Hebrew  delighted  to  depict  as  best  exhibiting  the  inter- 
posal of  Jehovah  in  delivering  His  people.  They  rep- 
resent all  kingdoms  of  the  world  in  terrible  and  over- 


286  OMNIPOTENCE. 

wlielming  array  against  Zioii.  ^^Tlie  heathen  rage/' 
^^The  rulers  take  counsel,  and  kings  set  themselves 
against  the  Lord  and  against  His  Anointed."  "Israel 
is  in  dismay."  "The  sorrows  of  death  compass  Zion." 
"  In  her  distress  she  calls  upon  her  God  and  He  hears 
her  cry." 

Then  comes  the  Divine  interposal;  "He  bows  the 
heavens,  and  comes  down,  and  darkness  is  under  His 
feet.  Before  Him  goes  the  pestilence,  and  burning 
coals  break  out  at  His  feet.  There  goes  up  smoke  out 
of  His  nostrils,  and  fire  out  of  His  mouth  devours.  He 
stands  and  measures  the  earth.  He  beholds  and  drives 
asunder  the  nations.  He  dashes  them  in  pieces  as  a 
potter's  vessel.  The  everlasting  mountains  are  scattered, 
the  perpetual  hills  bow,  the  sun  and  moon' stand  still  in 
their  habitation.  He  maketh  wars  to  cease  on  the  earth. 
He  break eth  the  bow  and  cutteth  the  spear  insunder. 
He  burnetii  the  chariot  in  the  fire.  He  dashes  them  in 
pieces  as  a  potter's  vessel.  Such  the  stupendous  mani- 
festation in  behalf  of  Zion. 

And  now  over  all  that  terrible  scene  flames  out  the 
Divine  glory.  On  the  one  hand,  all  the  wreck  of 
imgodly  nations,  the  shattered  chariots,  the  trampled 
armies,  \\\q  disgraced  banners,  the  awful  carnage,  the 
waters  roaring,  the  mountains  shaking  with  the  swelling 
thereof,  the  earth  melting.  On  the  other,  a  river  whose 
bright  and  peaceful  streams  make  glad  the  City  of  God 
— the  holy  place  of  the  tabernacle  of  the  Most  High. 

And  just  at  this  point  comes  in  the  text.  It  is  the 
awful  voice  of  God  sounding  out  from  the  Throne. 
"  Be  stilly  and  know  that  I  am  God^  And  I  repeat  it. 
It  has,  like  all  appearances  and  utterances  of  God,  a 


OMNIPOTENCE,  287 

twofold  significance  and  seeming.  To  God's  enemies  in 
their  dismay  liow  terrible  !  "  Be  Ml,  and  know  that  I 
am  GodJ^  To  God's  people  in  their  assured  trust  how 
tended!  ^^ Be  still,  and  knotr  that  I  am  God^^ — your 
Omnipotent  Saviour. 

The  great  truth  taught  here  is  the  power  and  presence 
and  presidency  of  the  infinite  and  everlavSting  God.  And 
the  thought  we  are  considering,  the  different  aspects  of 
this  truth  as  we  stand  related  to  it. 

First.  To  the  enemies  of  God  it  is  simply  terrible. 
For  they  stand,  as  these  enemies  of  Ziou,  in  actual 
rebellion  against  Him.  This  whole  world  of  idolatrous 
and  infidel  ungodliness  hates  the  high  and  holy  Jehovah. 
Tliey  hate  His  righteous  laws.  They  hate  His  hallowed 
ordinances.  They  hate  His  very  being  ;  and  the  cry  of 
their  rebellious  heart  is,  "No  God !  no  God!"  Let  any- 
thing else  create  and  control  it — chance,  fate,  necessit}', 
cold  natural  law,  tremendous  physical  force,  any  other 
form  of  resistless  and  despotic  sovereignty;  but  we  will 
not  have  God.  So  they  are  setting  themselves  to  dis- 
prove His  very  being,  to  deny  His  providence.  They 
will  have  natural  powers  to  create,  and  terrible  chance 
to  control  them.  And  if  He  should  come  forth  from 
the  thick  clouds,  and  reveal  His  Omnipotent  Kingship, 
then  there  Avould  be  war  against  Him  on  the  earth,  as 
there  was  war  against  Him  in  heaven,  a  rush  on  the 
bosses  of  His  buckler,  a  gathering  together  to  cast  down 
His  Throne. 

But  while  God  does  not  thus  appear  as  visibly  objec- 
tive to  His  enemies,  that  enmity  has  been  as  positive 
and  direct  against  His  chosen  people.  The  mightiest 
powers  of  this  world  have  set  themselves  against  His 


'288  O  My  IPO  TRyCE. 

Chur<*h.  Tho  Egyptians  enslaved  ]ier.  The  Canaanites 
assaulted  in  the  exodus.  The  Assyrians  led  her  away 
captive.  The  Persians  op[)ressed  her.  The  Philistines^ 
sorely  smote  her.  The  Romans  burned  her  glorious 
City,  demolished  her  kingdom,  and  scattered  her  people 
over  all  the  earth.  And  later,  under  her  ucav  Gospel 
dispensation,  the  world  hath  all  along  hated  her,  and 
still  hates  her  without  cause.  Atheistic  science  and 
infidel  philosophy  are  yet  in  angry  league  against  God 
and  His  Anointed.  Now,  I  say,  it  is  in  this  direction 
and  unto  all  this  enmity  that  our  text  speaks  terribly. 

'^  Be  stilly  and  hioiu  that  I  am  God.'^  ^^  Be  stUjy 
'^ Be  stiliy  Cease  your  warfare  with  Jehovah.  Where? 
where  are  the  powers  that  have  in  olden  times  hardened 
themselves  against  Plim,  and  prospered  ?  Where  are 
Egypt  and  Assyria  and  Philistia  and  Persia  and 
Ba])ylon  and  Rome  ?  Verily  the  Prophet-bard's  was  a 
Psalm  of  truth.  "  Let  the  heathen  rage,  and  the  people 
imagine  vain  things,  and  the  kings  of  the  earth  set  them- 
selves, and  the  rulers  take  coujisel  together  against  God 
and  against  His  Anointed,  saying,  We  will  break  their 
bands  asunder.  We  will  cast  away  their  cords  from  us.*' 
^'Yet  He  that  sitteth  in  the  heavens  will  laugh.  He 
will  break  them  with  a  rod  of  iron.  He  will  dash  them 
in  pieces  as  a  potter's  vessel.  Verily  if  there  be  a  truth 
written  terribly  in  all  the  annals  of  the  past,  it  is  that 
none  that  set  themselves  against  God  have  prospered." 
And  the  same  truth  holds  still.  Sin  in  any  form  is  a 
transsTression  of  God's  law,  and  thus  insures  its  own 
destruction. 

I^et  a  man  or  a  school  or  a  nation  or  a  world  be 
assured  that  they  are  doing  a  wTong  thing,  and  they  arc 


OMNIPOTENCE.  289 

assured  as  well  that  they  are  in  the  way  of  destruction. 
The  whole  w^orld  may  he  with  them,  yet  with  God 
against  them  they  are  in  the  weakest  minority.  And  a 
man  flung  from  some  lofty  tower  might  as  well  struggle 
on  the  thin  air  against  the  law  of  gravitation,  as  one 
fighting  against  God  hope  to  escape  His  righteous 
Judgments.  This,  I  say,  is  the  text's  first  application. 
It  is  a  voice  from  heaven,  ringing  out  over  all  this 
boastful  array  of  sin  and  transgression  as  with  a  voice 
of  many  waters  and  niighty  thunderings,  '\Be  still.  Be 
stilly  and  hioic  that  I  am  God.  I  am  God.  I  will  be 
exalted.'* 

But,  then,  this  is  not  its  only  meaning,  nor,  indeed, 
its  chief  meaning.  This  truth  is  more  manifestly  the  more 
glorious  significance  of  God's  loving  kindness.  There- 
fore let  us  consider, 

Secondly,  Its  application  to  the  people  of  God.  This 
Ls,  indeed,  the  general  design  of  this  w^hole  matchless 
Pgalm.  It  is  an  exquisite,  logical  argument  for  the 
saint's  confidence  in  God.  It  begins  wath  a  setting  forth 
of  the  grounds  of  this  confidence  in  the  simple  relation 
God  has  with  His  people.  *'  The  Lord  is  our  refuge  and 
strength,  a  very  present  help  in  time  of  trouble." 
Therefore  "  we  will  not  fear  "  in  any  circumstances  or 
conditions  of  affliction  or  adversity.  "Though  the 
mountains  be  carried  into  the  sea,  i.  c,  in  prophetic 
symbolism ;  though  the  greatest  and  strongest  king- 
doms be  utterly  overthrown  ;  ^*  though  the  waters  roar 
and  be  troubled  and  the  mountains  shake  at  the  swelling 
tliereof,"  i.  e.,  though  multitudes  of  all  the  people  of 
the  world  vset  themselves  in  array  against  the  Church, 
"yet  just  because  God  is  in  her  she  shall  not  be  moved." 


290  OMNIPOTENCE. 

This  is  the  first  reason — an  apriori — from  God's  I'elation 
to  His  people,  ^' Wliat  He  will  probably  do  for  them.'' 

Meantime,  his  argument  is  amazingly  strengthened 
by  all  the  past  records  of  what  God  has  positively  done. 
Come,  behold  the  works  of  the  Lord,  what  desolations 
He  hath  made  in  the  earth.  He  maketh  wars  to  cease. 
He  breaketh  the  bow  and  ciitteth  the  spear  in  sunder," 
L  e.,  all  this  ruin  He  hath  wrought  in  the  ranks  of  ini- 
quity for  the  deliverance  of  His  people. 

(a.)  And  from  God's  personal  presence  with  His 
people. 

(6.)     From  His  relation  to  His  people. 

(c.)  From  His  past  interposal  in  behalf  of  His  peo- 
ple, he  exhorts  unto  exalting  confidence  in  Jehovah,  yea, 
presumes  to  speak  as  in  the  very  person  of  Jehovah. 
^' Be  stUlJ^  Be  calm,  trustful,  joyful.  ^^  Be  still,  and 
know  that  I  am  God,''  i.  e.,  be  calm,  serene,  trustful ; 
tremble  not,  nor  be  disquieted,  because  believing,  know- 
ing, that  "  I  am  God;^^  that  w^hatever  happens  to  you, 
even  of  seeming  evil,  comes  not  as  a  matter  of  chance, 
but  positively  and  more  or  le^s  directly  as  a  Divine  dis- 
pensation *  Some  things  in  our  experience  may  seem  to 
us  strange,  unwise,  yea,  even  unkind,  but  this  is  onl}' 
because  of  our  finitude. 

(a.)  We  judge  partially.  We  see  only  a  single 
part  of  the  mighty  machinery  of  providence ;  and  just 
as  an  insect  on  a  chariot-wheel,  constantly  revolving,  so 
that  he  finds  himself  now  up  in  the  bright  sunshine, 
and  then  down  in  the  mire  of  the  road  ;  cognizant  only 
of  the  rotary  motion,  so  frets  and  scolds,  not  perceiving 
how  not  only  the  Imperial  rider,  but  himself  as  well, 
are  the  while  in  rapid  progress  on  some  high  mission; 


OMNIPOTENCE.  291 

so  Ave,  irjcapabie  of  seeing   but    part  of  God's    ways, 
pitifully  complain  of  them. 

(6.)  M^e  judge  prematurely.  God  works  iu  long 
times  and  in  circles  of  immense  sweep ;  and  wo  in  our 
impatience  judge  of  His  haif-accomplislied  purposes. 
As  if  a  flower  seed,  conscious  of  the  latent  life  within, 
which  gave  promise  of  development  into  a  splendid 
blossom,  when  first  cast  into  the  dark  ground,  and  decay- 
ing in  its  outer  shell,  should  cry  out,  ''  Alas  for  this 
burial,  even  unto  death  under  the  clods  of  the  valley !" 
So  we,  looking  only  at  God's  half-finished  work,  find 
fault  with  the  process,  and  thus  and  otherwise  partially, 
or  prematurely,  or  from  many  stand-points,  or  most 
selfishly,  misjudge  and  misinterpret  and  fail  to  see  our 
Father's  hidden  purpose  of  love  in  our  daily  experience. 
And  to  us,  therefore,  in  joyful  consolation  comes,  as  to 
the  troubled  Psalmist  amid  all  the  fierce  assaults  of 
enemies,  and  above  all  the  awful  clangor  of  the  battle, 
yea,  out  of  the  very  tempest  that  works  the  wild  waters 
into  wrath,  and  the  earthquake  that  shakes  down  the 
mountains,  that  voice  of  tenderest  love,  ''  Be  stilh  Be 
dill,  and  know  that  I  am  GodP 

Be  assured  that  whatever  happens  to  a  true  child  of 
God  is  just  the  ^visest  and  best  thing  that  could  possibly 
happen.  The  darkest  and  most  direful  dispensations  of 
providence,  the  most  tremendous  upheavals  of  all  civil 
and  social  life ;  as  David  puts  it,  "  The  mountains  shak- 
ing, the  waters  roaring,  yea,  the  earth  removed,  the 
mountains  carried  into  the  midst  of  the  sea."  Yet  «ut 
of  all  the  terrible  chaos  and  convulsions  breaks  a 
Divine  voice  of  tenderest  consolation,  and  the  heart 
finds  in  God  "■  its  refuge  and  strength,  and  rests  joy- 


292  OMNIPOTENCE. 

fully,  as  iu  the  Q\\.j  of  God,  ever  made  glad  by  the 
streams  of  a  bright  river/'  and  lifting  up  ever  faith's 
trustful  cry,  "Thuugli  the  earth  be  removed,  yet  we  will 
not  fear,"  because  knowing  that  even  in  this  marching 
throuo'h  the  land  in  indimiation  God's  o-oino-  forth  is 
only  for  the  deliverance  of  His  ])eoplc.  AVho  wonders 
that  Luther  in  his  hours  of  pci-il,  facing  death,  would 
say,  "  Brother  Melanchthon,  let  us  read  the  Forty -sixth 
Psalm,  and  then  earth  and  hell  may  do  tlieir  worst 
with  us. 

This,  I  say,  is  the  text's  lesson  of  consolation  unto 
all  who  trust  God.  Even  these  tremendous  interposals 
of  omnipotence  ^^are  for  the  deliverances  of  His  people; 
as  David  puts  it  afterward,  '^Like  as  a  Father  pitieth 
Ids  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that  fear  Him ;" 
as  Isaiah  even  more  tenderly,  *'  .Vs  one  whom  his 
inother  comforts,  so  shall  ye  be  comforted  in  Jerusalem." 
Oh  matchless  symbolism  of  love  !  The  child  sleeping 
in  some  solitary  chamber  is  roused  from  his  sweet  dream 
to  find  the  dwelling  shaking  around  him  in  the  terrible 
tempest.  He  is  deafened  by  the  crashing  thunder, 
blinded  by  the  glaring  lightning,  and  cries  out  in  fear. 
And  now  upon  his  quick  ear  a  sound  of  gliding  feet ; 
and  to  his  affrighted  thought  it  must  be  the  terrible 
spirit  of  the  storm.  Nearer  and  nearer  those  gliding 
footsteps ;  it  seems  young  Eliphaz's  experience — "  A 
spirit  passing  before  the  face;"  and  he  could  not  discern 
the  form  therof.  There  was  an  image,  and  silence  and 
fear  came  upon  him,  and  trembling."  But  now  close 
))y  that  little  trembler  that  footstep  pauses,  and  now  a 
voice  is  lieard,  not  a  spectre's  ghostly  voice,  but  a  voice 
well-known  and  beloved  in  its  tenderness.     A  father's 


OMNIPOTENCE,  293 

voice,  a  mother's  voice,  says  cheerily,  '^  Be.  sfiU.''  "  Be 
not  afraid.  It  is  I.  It  is  I.*'  And  what  of  the  child 
now  ?  Where  is  fear  and  anguish  ?  Do  not  his  eyes 
flash  ?  his  heart  bound  as  he  grasps  that  outstretched 
hand,  springs  to  that  loving  bosom,  and  then,  even 
amid  the  tempest,  sinks  again  to  rej^ose  ? 

And  just  so  is  it  with  the  Eternal  One.  In  this 
mortal  life,  in  this  dark  earthly  chamber,  where  I  await 
the  breaking  of  the  immortal  morning,  thick  shadows 
of  the  mortal  night  gather  round  me,  tempests  some- 
times roar,  lurid  lightnings  glare,  and  sometimes  in 
distressing  and  disastrous  providences  I  hear  the  foot- 
fall as  of  some  JNIighty  One,  and  to  me,  too,  as  unto 
him  in  Teman,  an  awful  spirit  seems  passing  by,  and  I 
cry  out  with  fear.  But  then  out  of  the  gloom  and  the 
turmoil  of  elements  a  voice  sweet,  gentle,  well-known, 
beloved,  ^'  Be  stilly  my  child  ;  be  not  afraid.  It  is  I.  It 
is  I.''     "  Be  stilly  and  know  that  I  am  GodJ^ 

And  now  the  gloom  distresses  me  not,  nor  the  Avild 
war  of  elements,  nor  the  fall  of  mighty  footsteps  walk- 
ing on  the  wings  of  the  wind.  But  I  turn  me  to  my 
rest  again  at  the  blessed  utterance,  ^'  Be  still,  and  know 
that  I  am  God^    - 


DATE  DUE 

fHfll ,4|,jj 

>^nfY 

%W^W'"'ar'^ 

^^#T 

CAVLORO 

FHINTtO  IN  U.S.A. 

